Unexpected Blooms

how a bouquet of flowers planted a seed

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Issue #52/ Welcome to Good and Beautiful Things, thanks for joining me in this space.

For Valentine’s day this year, the leader of my daughter’s small group at church gave flowers to all of the girls in the group. They gathered together and I took a photo of these high school girls holding their flowers, smiles on every face. The moment reminded me of a little story from my life that I published at the beginning of 2023.

This week I sat with a friend who is unable to see her own beauty and can’t believe that God delights in her, exactly as she is. It’s a place I’m familiar with and again, it made me think of this story.

I hope it reminds you of a moment in your life when God showed up through the small act of another person.

Mixed media on wood

Cindy gave me flowers during a particularly ugly time in my life. It was not that my life was ugly but that I felt ugly. A mess. Inside and out.

I was nearly thirty and a mom of three young kids. My body had morphed after the arrival of my second child and grown even less familiar by my third. My youngest child spit up copious amounts of milk, so much so that I’d taken to keeping a large towel on my shoulder instead of those thin, useless burp rags. I smelled like sour vomit, my clothes never fit right and I was doing a job no one had prepared me for.

I didn’t know how to do anything that I was supposed to be doing. I didn’t know how to be a full-time, stay at home, homeschooling mom. I didn’t know how to make good meals for my family at the end of the day or how to have the house tidied up by the time my husband got home (an expectation I placed on myself by the way, not by my husband). Our little house was bursting with Playmobil, dress-up clothes and discarded sheets from the forts the kids had made. By 4:30pm every day I was counting the minutes for my husband to arrive home and get in the trenches with me or relieve me from duty. 

Cindy was in the Bible study I led at church. With long gray hair, she was younger than my mother but older than me at the time, maybe mid-forties? For whatever reason she adopted me for a season. She sent me encouraging little notes in the mail. When I arrived at church harried with kids in tow, she smiled at me and gave me a hug. I wasn’t accustomed to being greeted by someone who seemed so sincerely happy to see me.

One day she came into Bible Study and handed me a bouquet of roses. Along with the flowers she’d written a note that said something encouraging but I can’t remember the exact words now. I just remember they were words I never would have applied to myself. The only thing I could see about myself was the gap between how I thought a mother and wife should be and the reality I saw when I looked in the mirror.

What have I done to deserve these flowers?

Nothing.

And yet.

With those unexpected blooms a seed was planted.

Maybe. I. am. lovable.

The Lord pursued my heart through Cindy’s persistent, small acts of love. Centimeter by centimeter he began opening my heart to a love that I didn’t have to earn. 

I lost track of Cindy soon after the Bible Study ended and I’m sure she had no idea of the impact those flowers had on my heart. Even though I only knew her for a season she helped plant a seed that God has continued to cultivate for the last fifteen years.

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What about you? I would love to hear about a small gesture that made a big impact on your life.

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Words to Remember

Do not leave
without hearing
who you are:
Beloved,
named by the One
who has traveled this path
before you.

Do not go
without letting it echo
in your ears,
and if you find
it is hard
to let it into your heart,
do not despair.
That is what
this journey is for….

I can tell you
that on this way
there will be rest.

I can tell you
that you will know
the strange graces
that come to our aid
only on a road
such as this,
that fly to meet us
bearing comfort
and strength,
that come alongside us
for no other cause
than to lean themselves
toward our ear
and with their
curious insistence
whisper our name:

Beloved.
Beloved.
Beloved.

-Jan Richardson, excerpt of Beloved is Where We Begin

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From the Sketchbook Archives

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Blessings from the Guest Nest,

-Aimee

P.S.—Thanks so much for reading! You can support the writing and art I share each week by donating to my art supply fund.

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