There are all kinds of ways to be given flowers.
There are all kinds of reasons to be given flowers.
There are some types of flowers I love more than others, BUT
I do love getting flowers.
I love getting flowers when I expect them.
(What new Momma doesn't expect some kind of pastel bouquet?)
I love getting flowers when I don't expect them.
(Especially if we haven't even had a disagreement!)
I love flowers when I buy them for myself at the grocery.
(I usually pick up alstroemeria because they last so long.)
I love getting flowers in a pot of soil.
(My friend J. is great on this one.)
I love getting a tangled handful of yard greens with limp tossles on top.
(Thank you, Austin, for having allergies. This is one time when your allergies are useful.
Because of you, I can honestly thank the dear child that brought flowers to me,
then take the arranged weeds to the window sill outside.
The other time his allergies are useful is when there is dusty work. He does get out of some types of manual labor based on the sympathy- factor.)
I think, quite possibly, that
Flowers From My Father
are my most favorite.
You see, I was given some again today.
I had a pretty good day yesterday, considering it was one of the children's birthdays
and things didn't go as planned.
(Maybe I should have actually had a plan, but that's another post.)
Yesterday's Flowers From My Father included an international skype conversation with Justin. He's our 20 year old in the Philippines for a 3 week medical m*ssion and he was able to fill me in on his first few days there. So precious to get face time when it's a little elusive.
Flowers From My Father.
(We'll leave out the significant chunk of the day which was spent
disciplining character training another one of the children)
Then, Birthday Girl's birth mom called.
We hadn't had a chat in a
time, and it was a wonderful gift of
Flowers From My Father.
I figured the smile from those two bouquet alone would glue the grin on my face all week.
But, no, He had more planned.
Today's bouquet wasn't the huge mass of crimson roses
on the dining room table,
or the sweet single bud on the bedside.
It was the delightfully cheery riot of
neatly settled onto the kitchen table with
a hot cup of tea beside them.
~~a long-overdue, extended conversation with a dear friend
who is serving God on the other side of the Big Pond~~
God's gift of friendship and fellowship and community
outlasts location, occupation and nation.
I listened to her heart and she listened to mine.
We shared our lives, and adventures, and we laughed
and neither time nor distance really were an issue.
She listened as I paused our conversation to instruct a child or two on one thing or another. Our family banter made her smile since she could "see" the expressions on the kids' faces. She's seen the good and bad in most of my kids, and still enjoys their unique personalities. I enjoyed hearing her man's voice call out from the background, and it was like we lived across town from each other again, not across the world.
The grass sometimes seems greener,
was one thought that came from today's conversation.
That's true for me, I suppose.
There are days I think less would be more and other days when I think more would be better.
But the conclusion, rightly drawn, was that
we are where we are with God's grace and provision.
is living life with the faith, the deep-to-the-core knowledge,
that despite anything and everything,
He has a plan (perfect one, at that),
He has a purpose (perfect one, at that)
and He will provide (perfectly, I must add)
To quote EB:
"Maybe it's just that we're all making the most of what we've been given - wherever and whatever that is."
Good strong, quotations may be my one weakness...