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I'd like to be a flower in the garden
of God.
I'd like to take my chances in the wind and the rain, in the storm and
the sunshine.
I'd like to be planted among a variety of species; in the midst of an
assortment of colors and sizes and shapes; and to grow among the lilies
and the lilacs, the crocuses, and the chrysanthemums, the poppies and
the pansies, and yes, even the dandelions.
I want to be a part of an absolute riot of color and beauty.
I pray God I might last long enough to
blossom. And then, Lord, early if You want, late if You can, I
want You to pick me. And if I must be alone in a solitary vase,
I'll take it. I would rather be in a bouquet. But could I be
something beautiful, Lord, and placed on Your table at somebody's
covenantal moment, when they're bringing their child or when they are
burying their beloved or when they are sealing a vow?
That would be joy enough, God, but
could I ask one more thing? Could it be possible that someone
would say, "That reminds me of a flower I once saw, a Rose of Sharon, a
lily of the valley, who was once picked by God and gave up His life to
add beauty and significance to the lives of others."
* The late Harrell Beck was
Professor of Old Testament Theology at BU School of Theology |
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