As I was rocking in my bench swing this morning, I overheard a private conversation in my flower bed. Sounds ridiculous, I know. Who’s ever heard of talking flowers unless of course one reads Alice in Wonderland? Anyway, I hated to eavesdrop, but their words struck a chord. Here’s what they said:
“I don’t like being a Day-lily. I’d rather be an Iris.”
“Seriously? Don’t you know people call you the perfect perennial plant? Your flowers are dazzling. In fact, the name lily translated in Greek means beautiful. That’s why the woman planted you in her garden.”
“She also planted Irises. The Greek name for those perennial plants is rainbow. Their fan-shaped flowers come in a variety of colors. And they’re prolific. Have you noticed how quickly they multiply?”
“They’re not perfect. Did you see their tall flowering stems last month? The woman had to stake the poor things because they couldn’t stand erect. What’s the point of blooming, if you’re lying on the ground and no one can see you?”
“Admit their sword-shaped leaves are unique.”
“Yes, and God could have made you a weed, but He didn’t.”
“But if He did, I could grow up between the cracks of cement. Trust me, weeds are hearty. The woman fusses because they invade her garden. It’s a constant battle.”
‘The point is God created you as a Day-lily; not a weed or an Iris. “Consider the lilies…not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.”(Luke 12:27)
“But if I’m meant to be a Day-lily, why can’t my flowers be yellow like those other Day-lilies?”
“How can you grow and not recognize your blessings? You have full sun and plenty of water.”
“Is that the only tune you hum? Be thankful. What’s wrong with wanting more from life? Maybe I want to be in the County Fair Flower Exhibit.”
“You’re right Day-lily. You should have been an Iris. Now you’re only a discontent and envious plant. Pray you get a fungus so you can bloom and die like your flowers that typically last 24 hours.”
“Your attitude is horrible! I’m not listening to you, Marigold. You’re an annual flower. You won’t even be here next year.”
Their talking ceased. I could hear a pine needle drop….
Until a chirping bird said,. “I don’t like being a Finch? I’d rather be a Hummingbird.”
Even In This 