While the sun shines today, the past two weeks in Sydney have seen almost constant rain, clouds and cold with the occasional blustery wind to ensure we all got wet more than once.
The plants around our courtyards, while at first welcoming the moisture, after a week or so seem to be putting their hands up and saying, ‘we’ve had enough’.
Not so one humble plant, stoically located in a pot near our front door. Just as the weather reports began to be filled with news of east coast lows and torrential rains, our welcome plant was, for the first time, putting forth flower buds.
And as the grey skies took over and the constant rain fell, it broke out in a lavish display of petulant pink, protesting against the bleakness, bowing down under its load of large flowers. Guests even stopped to take photos, umbrellas close at hand.
Now the plant’s inaugural show of joy and colour has won out, the rain has given up but the pink flowers live on, welcoming the sun back with barely a ‘I told you so’.
The words ‘bloom where you are planted’ crossed my mind more than once as I regularly dashed past the floral version of a pink flamingo. How inspiring that you would defy the grey and bloom anyway, I thought.
The Creator’s hand was evident, not just in the flowers, but in the timing and the message. Am I willing to be what God has made me to be despite the grey clouds and gloomy outlook? Am I so convinced of his goodness that I will by all means display it regardless of the outlook?
Do I realise the awful power of a loving rightness carried forward by God’s Spirit and alive within me, unquenched by circumstance? Will I allow the flourishing grace of God to choose the time and place for colour and new life? PH