This sunflower bloomed yesterday.


It's not a wild sunflower, nor is it planted in a flower bed. The seed from which this flower sprang started out in the bird feeder, on its way to being bird food. Birds, however, are messy eaters, and have managed to drop enough seeds to generate a little patch of grass below their feeder. And this solitary flower.

In the course of life, many of us eventually wonder if we are fulfilling our purpose on the earth. Are we living according to the design of our Creator? When we stand before Him will we hear Him say "well done, good and faithful servant" or will He cross His arms and tap His foot and frown and say "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

To that very normal question about life and what we do with it, add a touch of neuroses, a tendency toward OCD, a dash of perfectionism, and a genuine desire to please God, and you end up with a bad case of analysis paralysis.

Are we in the right place at the right time?
The right place, but the wrong time?
Right time, but wrong place?
OR, (shivering in horror) are we in the wrong place at the wrong time?
What if it's ALL wrong?

What if we missed some vital step somewhere?
What if we took a wrong turn and aren't even on course?
What if we are the turnip that tumbled off the turnip truck on the way to the farmer's market?

I'm tired of fretting over every decision and action; past, present, and future.
I think Solomon, during his quest for wisdom and understanding, must have come to the same conclusion when he wrote "Nothing is better for a man than that he should eat and drink, and that his soul should enjoy good in his labor." in Ecclesiastes.

That sunflower has its "face" turned to the sun this morning. It's simply being a sunflower in spite of being in the wrong place and probably the wrong time. (Some of you with pristine flower beds are cringing at the idea of a stray flower popping up of its own free will, aren't you? Get over it.)

Do I know what today holds? Or tomorrow? Nope. I could fret myself to a frazzle trying to figure out the ultimate plan, hang my happiness now and forever on one hook. But what if I just take a cue from that silly little flower and bloom anyway?









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