Bouquet of Life

As I drove to my meeting, the bouquet kept catching my eye. It took me a while to realize why.

My mom grew the flowers, and our oldest daughter picked the flowers.  I had the job of arranging the flowers.

It was meant to be a simple bouquet to thank the hostess of my meeting that night, composed of imperfect flowers, twine, a mason jar, and, very possibly, a bug or two. I finally realized it was so much more than the addition of imperfect pieces.  Three generations of hands touched that bouquet; it represented this moment in our lives - my life - so well.

I am blessed to live on the same property with my parents and to have coffee with them every morning, to talk about farm stuff, school, daily moments - to share life with them completely.

I am also blessed at this moment to still have all of my children at home. Our oldest girl is at a tender and capable age, but she is growing quickly, so quickly. She has my heart more than she knows.

That simple bouquet represents one of the sweetest stages of life for me - being sandwiched between two wonderful women - One who has paved the road before me and one who forges new paths behind us.

I don't often treasure these moments like I should, and I am thankful that the simple composition of flowers, a mason jar, and twine made me aware of this special time.  God works like that, using our simple and imperfect vessels to communicate his message and his love.

It Was a Beautiful Day at the Park

It was beautiful at the park today...

I went to the park today, the park I went to often as a kid, the only playground I knew. The weather was crisp and clear with the first hints of fall. My children loved it. But as they ran and played and discovered the new equipment, I found that we had brought extra people with us.



Standing there watching the kids play, I couldn't help but see the old equipment that had been replaced - the slide and merry-go-round and out-dated, metal bucket swings where I spent my childhood. Seeing through eyes of yesterday, I realized lots of people were at the playground, even if no one else could see them.

Wasn't my Pappaw over there on the bench offering me a slice of fresh pear cut with his pocket knife? I'm sure he was ready to sit after pushing me on the swings and watching me run around endlessly. Although the bench has been moved and only a stump remained of the tree that shaded it, I still saw that he had a love for life and me matched by few.

Wasn't my Mammaw waiting for me at the bottom of the slide with a pocket of hard candies including my favorite yellow cellophane-wrapped butterscotch? I bet she was surprised when I announced: "Only SIX more years until I'm a teenager!!" Her fierce love and prayers kept me through those teenage years and well into my early years of motherhood.

I could feel the whispers of my great grandparents in their snug house just down the street. You almost had to press your face to the chain link to see their house on the hill. But they were there, a mystery of old people and old things who didn't make sense to me. I now see so much more than I did then, their love and dedication that brought our family through tough times and good.

And, just over there, at the really basic monkey bars that were repainted for the park updates, I could see myself and two friends just having finished an early morning run the summer before college, soaking up those last few minutes before we transitioned to young adults. Those kids didn't know where life would take them. I see a little more of their stories now, and I'm thankful they had that summer to fellowship and enjoy a friendship that, while true, was eroded by distance and different milestones in life.

Under that oak tree, I can make out the shape of the see-saw in the dusk of a summer night, one that had a sadly short life in the playground and of which nothing remains. I could hear the late teenage couple embarrassingly answering the question posed by other people in the park of whether they were boyfriend and girlfriend... of course, they weren't!  ...if you ignored the fact they had been hanging out together all summer long going on long, meandering walks at night, just like the one that took them to the seesaw at the playground. The four children of that couple were enjoying the park today, even if they can't see that long gone see-saw.

Wiping the sudden and unexpected of onset of tears while pushing my four-year-old in a brand new swing that didn't creak and have peeling paint, I saw all of these people at the park, and I realized that they would be with me every time I came to the park. There love was there surrounding me, those experiences making me who I am. My children didn't see those people, but their lives are touched by them everyday.

It was a beautiful day at the park.