J. Grant Swank, Jr.
Jesus pointed to the field lilies. "Be like them," He encouraged.
Jesus pointed to the wheat strands of the meadows. "Be like them," He counseled.
A
lily danced in the morning breezes, oblivious to the storm clouds
gathering for noontime. That flower gave forth its fragrance with an
abandon. Birds flew overhead to take note of that lily. Meandering
field flies tweaked the lily's ears and then sped away.
"But I cannot move from here. My stem is lodged into the earth. I can do nothing more than look upward, smiling my graces into the sun, sharing my aroma with but a bee or two," the lily mused.
"I
wish that I could be noticed by someone. I long for someone to stop
by, stoop low and smell deeply the new day's perfume from my simply
being here. I have grace to offer a willing eye. I have beauty to
share with appreciative heart. But, no, I am left here with these
gifts--alone."
With similar despair, the wheat strand, far in another glen, moved right and then left with the fresh winds of another day.
"I
pray for the journey outward, onward, where I can put to use my slender
life. I want to be seen, to be known for something other than
loneliness. I may not be as attractive as the lily of the field; but I
am tender and striking in my own fashion.
"I could make
someone happy, but I see no one. I could make a difference for this
meadow would be quite stark if there were not the likes of me filling
its void. Instead, I am playing solitaire into each evening hour.
Then, who knows, I may disappear soon with nothing more accomplished
than staving off these buffetings."
It was then that the
holy smile of God looked down upon that lily of the field and that wheat strand of the glen.
"My
special friends, I have heard your cries. You have brought tears to My
eyes. Please, do not bring further hurt to My heart for I have made
you. I have breathed your beauty and fragrance into your wispy
frames. I have spilled My palette upon your covers.
"Then
do you not know that you exist for Me? I take in your aroma. I see
your unique presence. I take note of your movings to the right and
left. I befriend you through the field flies and bees that wander by
your faces.
"I have watched over you through each night. I
have birthed you anew each dawn. I have protected you through the
noontime gales. Then would not I alone be sufficient for your very
existence? Does not My friendship count for the primary purpose for
you gracing the meadow and the glen?
"You must not fall for the baits of those human
creatures by the lane. They strive to impress one another. They bend
and sway each waking hour to 'get ahead,' they call it. They even step
on one another's fragrance, pull down one another's beauty, in an
attempt to satisfy their selfish gnawings.
"Yet it is all
the while--day after day--that I, Creator God, wait for them to look
up, to give forth their special graces, to share their reflected
charm. Sadly, however, in most cases, they never learn simply how to
be.
"You understand, lily of the field and wheat strand
of the glen, you are. You are. That means that you have already
arrived. You are seeing through the reason for your being planted on
earth.
"You have come upon what those on the lane have yet
to learn. Please be at peace then. Be at rest. Know that you have
come upon the eternal secret.
"Now keep on filling My holy face with joy, lily flower. And keep on bowing to and fro, wheat stalk.
"In that you have made My lonely heart glad. In that you have fulfilled your destiny. In that you have kissed each morning by your graces.
"You have learned to bless your Father in heaven and so make the world a kinder place."