I didn’t take my kids for a 10 year re-enactment photo shoot in the bluebonnets like I planned. They’re only interested in photo bombing and they hate being outside. They hate road trips even more. Pair that with nature and getting in the middle of a wildflower field, I didn’t even bother. And then the quarantine happened.
I figured we could go anyway and give other wildflowers a little attention. I let that slide, too. Now even the Indian paintbrush, Mexican hat, Texas thistle, and black-eyed Susan are saying goodbye.
This morning, as I walked by a field I pass every morning, I stopped to snap some shots. I wanted to take them when they were in full bloom. Sometimes procrastinating pays off. It moves us into things we didn’t intend, but gives us more than we expected.
We get to see depth. Fitting for Mother’s Day, no? We give our mammas the prettiest flowers because they deserve as much tangible beauty as we can muster. A bouquet created by nature–God–is one of the best ways to express that.
It’s hard to see the intricacies of the core of a flower in full bloom. We see the vibrant beauty created to notice from a distance. When we do get close, we see a limited part of the essence of the flower, the little parts that hold the petals, the rough edges, the thorns that protect it, the powerhouse that holds it together and creates more beauty for another season.
We tend to dismiss the full cycle in a field of flowers. Why focus on them when they’re in full bloom when there’s more to see? The end is the beginning of something stronger.
Motherhood also has cycles. Vibrant young moms. Moms with teens. Empty nest moms who have more time on their hands, maybe. Grandmothers and great-grandmothers who wear wisdom like a crown.
Like wildflowers, moms stand tall, they’re beautiful, they’re tough, but there are days when times are hard and they get worn out. They don’t stop. They keep giving the best of themselves. It’s hard to see the depth of such a complex role because we walk past it like we walk past a field of wildflowers that already bloomed.
And that’s the beauty of motherhood. We give the goodness that blooms within us.
Happy Mother’s Day.