Wildflower blessings

They’re just the reminder I needed.

As I head out on the trails of a state park today, all my boxes are checked. Sunny and cool. Empty trails. Occasional views. Bountiful birdsong. And surprising flowers.

Wildflowers are the delight of spring hikes. Today is no exception. These tiny blossoms are easily identified by my phone as Virginia Springbeauty, which is a pleasantly direct name, though not as whimsical as its alternate, fairy spud. (Inspired by their little tubers, no doubt.)

I stop and photograph the first cluster I see. But as I walk, I realize that they are everywhere. They accent the brown, leaf-littered carpet of the forest with bright points of color.

They start me thinking about blessings.

If you were to ask me in this moment to list God’s blessings in my life, I would surely start with the big ones. Breath. Health. Salvation. My wife. These are the long-lasting gifts.

Put in terms of this park, they are the river vistas: impressive and reliable reminders of the goodness of God.

But these flowers belong to a different breed of blessing. They are plentiful but short-lived, the ones Isaac Watts describe as “ten thousand thousand precious gifts my daily thanks employ.” They have the same temporary nature of the “bread of the moment” we are enjoined to request in the Lord’s prayer.

I like the redundancy of Watts’ counting for it captures the abundance of these transient gifts. David refers to them in Psalm 21:6 --

Surely you have granted (the king) unending blessings
    and made him glad with the joy of your presence.      

David makes a good point. These “unending blessings” have a purpose beyond simply brightening our lives. They connect us with the Giver. They are brief flares, sparkling in our life’s leaf-litter, reminding us that God is active and present.

Even on the path. As I muse on this aloud as I hike (remember: empty trails), I am suddenly voicing my wish that Jesus could be walking next to me. To see his feet meet the solid earth. To hear what interests him in the forest around us. To feel his hand of brotherly affection on my shoulder.

The thought startles me with its intense longing. I stop on the trail to give the emotion its moment.

This is why I need the wildflowers. And the myriads of other small moments of surprise and beauty – especially the fleeting ones. They are the nudges of Jesus, his voice beside me saying, “Look at this!”

They are his hand of love on my shoulder, turning my attention to the joy of his presence.

Lord, you do walk with us every day. Make us aware of your presence through the wildflower blessings. Let us feel your joy.

Reader: what temporary gifts in your life point you to the Giver?