Parable of the Flowers

Miss Petty Tunia bloomed profusely in the warm June sunshine. Having been planted by her gardener many weeks earlier, she had all the moisture and nutrients she needed or desired. And whenever the rains were too long in coming, that gracious gardener turned his hose on his flowers for a good long drink.

The creative gardener had planted Miss Petty’s lavender splash exactly where he wanted her amidst other decorative plants. She was flanked on one side by Heidi Drangea and on the other by Reddy Rose. Nearby grew Harry Hosta, Mary Gold, and Lily Day.

The gardener had done a masterful job of mixing colors, textures, and sizes to form a stunning patch in which he loved to relax enjoying their splendor and fragrance. Everyone commented on the gorgeous summer beauty and how each flower complimented all the others. As the various plants bloomed, they brought joy to their gardener and praise to him from others.

One day, however, as Miss Petty watched Mr. Tumble Weed blow by, she began to feel a bit restrained. She felt boxed in and yearned to travel freely. The more she thought about this, the more she considered her gardener overbearing and heavy handed. How dare he impose his will on her!

As she shared her thoughts with her neighbors, they tried to help her understand their gardener’s immense love, skill, and care. They pointed out the drooping wildflowers across the lane withering in the drought. They also reminded Petty of the delicious Miracle Grow he had fed them just days earlier. They assured her she was doing exactly what she was supposed to do by blooming where he had planted her.

It was no use. She had seen Tumble’s freedom and made her choice. One sunny morning, she talked the dog into yanking her roots out of their secure moorings and waited excitedly for the wind to launch her adventure. She was finally free of her soil prison!

By the time the storm blew up that afternoon, she was already thirsty. When the raindrops fell, she drank in as many as she could as the wind began to drive her harshly across the lawn. When she tried to keep herself from blowing into the street she suddenly realized she had no control but was completely at the wind’s mercy. Sadly, her right arm got smashed by a truck delivering more fertilizer to her gardener.

By the next morning, all of her blossoms had wilted and her leaves were seriously sagging. As the heat of that afternoon approached, she realized how desperate her situation was and how foolish she had been. She had taken all of her provisions for granted and instead of appreciating her generous caring gardener, she had deceived herself into seeing him as a harsh dictator.

The constant supply of fresh water and food that Petty enjoyed seemed miles away as she wilted beside Tumble whom she had so envied. As she lay there gasping, she realized that Tumble never bloomed nor bore fruit. And instead of going where he chose, she now realized that he was driven wherever the wind desired.

That soil that once seemed so confining suddenly became very attractive to Petty. But there was nothing she could do. Just as she gave up any hope of rescue and laid her petals down to die, she felt a familiar hand. Her gardener had discovered her plight, took her home, and dug her in. He gave her a good long drink and pressed the familiar soil around her stem. It took a few days, but soon she was producing bountiful lavender blossoms again.

In what family, congregation, or community has the Gardener planted you? Tumbleweeds don’t bloom or produce fruit. Enjoy the Gardener’s provisions and bloom as much as you can for Him right where He’s chosen.

Blessings, George