Consider the lilies

I open the front door and sunlight nearly blinds us.  Cradled in my arms, she looks up at me, then out to the yard.  I walk through too-tall grass to the mailbox and pull open the door.  "Junk mail," I tell her.  I turn back towards our house and then I see them: the lilies.  Under the giant oak in our front yard, stretching their stems toward the light, grow a group of lilies.  I carry her over to the comfort of the shade and we bend down to examine them.  Wide star-shaped blooms, streaked with magenta, golden yellow stamens; their scent is intoxicating.  She looks up at me, then at the flowers and reaches her tiny hand out to grasp it.  I pull her back just in time, rescuing the bloom from certain destruction.  She smiles and we walk back to the house.

Later, I think about the lilies, blooming so carefree.  They don't stop to think about the impending disaster that awaits them...that like all things, their blooms will fade and fall to the ground where they will decay and turn back into the soil that now nourishes them.  Undeterred, they unfurl their petals, up and out toward the sunlight, in the face of summer rains and glaring heat.  There is nothing arrogant about their blooming; they are simply doing what they are created to do. 

And yet, some days, I hold back.  I don't unfurl my own petals for fear that they will be trampled or that my bloom won't be bright enough by comparison.  But on the days when I truly consider the lilies, I know that those fears are unfounded; that by living the life I was meant to, that by doing what I was created to do, I'm living humbly, accepting that my purpose and destiny has been laid out by the Master Gardener and I can trust Him.  I sometimes question that purpose, question those steps that have lead me here to this moment.  But those questions reveal my deep, abiding need for Him, my need for a Savior who walks beside me, moment by moment. 

So today, in the midst of the busyness of keeping this home and caring for this child, I will think about those blossoms, contentedly displaying their glory.  I will surrender to the Master Gardener and allow Him to prune away the dead branches, to fertilize the soil of my heart with His word.  I will embrace that He has made me for a purpose and that living it out is the ultimate act of worship.  Today, I will heed the words of Jesus:

Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

Luke 12:27