To my own mother, my mother-in-laws (Carole and Marlene) and, most of all, to the mother of my children …
These flowers remind me of you. These living paradoxes are delicate but extremely tough and resilient.
They beautify and give life. They’re put on display. They’re put in the background. They rise up. They’re cut down. They always come back.
Living embodiments of growth, hope and life. They endure storms, cold and clouds, heat and drought. Nurturers of the ecosystem of earth, heart and soul, they rejuvenate, inspire, calm, encourage, embolden and, above all else, endure.
They give more than they take. Their fragrant beauty makes the world and its inhabitants softer, kinder, gentler.
When the random abuses of nature are heaped upon them, they transform these oppositional forces into something marvelous and miraculous.
Gracious, giving and generous, their strength and beauty give shelter to the lost, rest to the weary, and comfort to the wandering soul. They adorn all of creation, these emblems of God’s grace, these reflections of God’s face. They bring you home again and remind you of who you really are and what you can become. These flowers … they remind me of you.