C R E A T I V E - S P A R K
Maybe this is one of the reasons I love flowers so much. This may also shed some light on why I lean toward optimism even in really difficult moments.
In 2007, a year of massive transition for me, I went on a rebuilding trip with my church to Louisiana after Katrina & Rita had devastated those areas. We were taken into the lower 9th ward by a wise, funny, deeply charismatic man who had moved back up to DC and attended our church while displaced from his home.
As he walked us through a neighborhood that used to have many houses, people's homes, where family memories, love, turmoil, history and new life was housed... now stood only the concrete foundations that once supported those very memories.
Barren. Like an old parking lot. Stripped of memories. Stripped of life.
There were only concrete foundations and... sprouts... of green.
Okay, so they were weeds.
But it WAS new growth. In the shadow of devastation.
I meandered off on my own with my camera, as I'll often do on group trips, when a little mini-daisy caught my eye (photo).* Okay, so it was also a weed.
I realized that in our lives, deep below what we can see or even anticipate as 'possible,' lies the very source of life. I believe that's why when you hear people saying "I need to center myself." They are trying to tap into that one, singular, universal well of living.
There are a lot of things that can knock us down in life. Things we thought would stand forever. Things that can scare us, make us bitter, angry, or shut out the idea of welcoming beauty that we each deserve in our lives. Every one of us deserves to have happiness. And perhaps there IS an opportunity to rebuild what's fallen down.
But time and time again, when I see 'life' springing up from unimaginable devastation like this, that I'm reminded of 'possibility.' Of the power of time. And the power of fresh starts. We can't even imagine what our futures may look like.
Beauty can turn into devastation.
But devastation can morph into beauty.
It's in that unknown, in that transition, that faith takes root.
faith is being sure of what we hope for
and certain of what we do not see.
— Hebrews 11:1
And even in a delicate little flower like this, lies the strength. The power. To come back. To shine. To love. To bring beauty to the world. And thank God for that.
* click the photo -- for video and one of my favorite songs
©2011 Wendy Hudgins