Lately there has been thick layer of shed leaves and flowers covering the grounds and roadsides. It creates an autumn-like atmosphere in this tropical Singapore and we very much enjoy the ambiance especially during the morning stroll with Baby. 🙂
We found this beautiful scene at one particular spot of our route..
Sometimes the flowers will be ‘raining’ down slowly on us while we stroll pass under the big mother tree. That’s a pretty romantic scene, isn’t it? We’ll open up our hands, trying to catch some falling flowers (Baby just loves it!) 🙂
Now thinking to myself, when I look at those fallen flowers on the ground, they looked just as pretty as when they were on the tree. But I knew they will soon wither and die there on the ground. That’s the life of the plant I guess. Perhaps that’s why they are beautiful. They bloom, they are shed, they wither. They produce seed, they bear fruits too. They live.
They live the way they are designed to live.
In my own life, likewise, there is a time for every different season. One season brings blossoms, another comes with the need to shed flowers and let them wither. It can be very tempting to want to stay in the season of blossoming forever; the comfort of being single and carefree, the promising career, the perfect pre-baby body figure, etc and resent the inevitable needs to move on to the next season. Maybe I thought I see the obvious ‘wasted’ season coming. What is the good in having the hard work in producing flowers wasted on the grounds, trampled by passers-by?
After some trying-hard-to-recall-what-my-biology-teacher-said and ‘googling’ around, I think I found the scientific answer: to continue bearing another life.
God designs life that way. One flower withers, but its sweet fruit is forming (or another batch of new beautiful flowers are in the making if it’s not a fruit bearing plant).
Too often the fear of wasted effort gets the better hold of us, and so we withhold bearing fruit. Even if we do bear fruits, they are bitter. Because we go through the process with bitterness.
It could be the resentment towards the post-pregnancy figure. It could be the discontentment in being stay-at-home mother. Or it could be the skeptical view about everything which restrains us from doing our best for our home. We refrain from cleaning ‘too much’, from giving our spouse birthday surprises, from baking cookies, from crafting play-and-learn activities, from planning creative playdates. For what we see is the withering flowers, we don’t see the fruit, we can’t see them yet.
Looking at those falling flowers, again. I can not see the fruits either. There might not be fruits, who knows? I don’t know.
What I think I know is this: God designs it the way it is, with a sure purpose not known to me. And it’s beautiful the way it is.
So may we continue to flower our best, to not fret but joyfully letting them off in due time, and to patiently bear the unseen coming fruits. May we learn to put our faith in the Lord, who has beautifully governed the life of a tree, given full splendor to its flowers, willed their withering, and at the same time has mightily given new lives through the process.
We don’t know and so we thought it’s wasted. But God knows, and God will definitely use the ‘wasted efforts’, often in ways unimaginable to us.