Sunflowers

There are sunflowers all over Hungary. Fields and fields of them. I have never been a huge fan of sunflowers, but when you see a sprawling field of yellow gleaming at you along the road it is difficult not to smile at their sunny faces. Yesterday, sunflowers made a particular impression on me.

I have always been amazed at how God reveals Himself and His love for me through seemingly random things. When God ordains something for me to see, hear, or experience that is to reveal a greater understanding of Him, the Spirit is the one that helps my feeble mind interpret it. Have you ever experienced this? When it happens, I feel a thrill in my soul and, in the case of the sunflowers, tears in my eyes. I always want to be very discerning in thinking myself able to hear from God or to interpret scripture. I think the following passage explains my point

1 Corinthians 2:10-13 says, "These things God has revealed to us through the Spirit. For the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God. For who knows a person’s thoughts except the spirit of that person, which is in him? So also no one comprehends the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God. And we impart this in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual truths to those who are spiritual."

So, what does this all have to do with sunflowers? Here is what I understood.

I saw the field of bright, young sunflowers as lifting their faces toward heaven, soaking in every bit of sun. Their petals were being nourished by the sunlight, and at the same time radiating the glow of it. I thought of times of joy in my life when I could lift my face to my Father in praise for His many blessings, or for what He had accomplished in me and through me, and could feel His warmth and presence.

Then a little further along I saw a field of sunflowers with wilted heads, their petals falling off, and the green of their leaves quickly fading. These flowers to me looked almost as if their heads were bowed. If I used my imagination a little bit I could almost think they were praying--or crying.

Who would choose to be one of these wilted flowers? Wouldn't one always choose to be lifting their face to the sun, cheerily yellow and radiating happiness? Surely that is the best place in life to be.

And yet, it was the thoughts of the second field of flowers that struck me. These flowers were certainly not experiencing (if flowers can indeed experience anything) a time when they glowed with joy. They were wilted, dying, "broken," if you will. They made me think of my own experiences of brokenness. Of times when I can't lift my face and I wonder whether I'll ever feel the presence of the Lord again.

I've been reading a book by Larry Crabb, and he says that we perhaps should "regard brokenness as an opportunity, as the chance to discover a desire that no brokenness can eliminate but only brokenness reveals." (Shattered Dreams, p. 70) that desire is to know God more deeply. To want nothing more than knowing Him. Crabb insists that we must not hurry God in this time. "...God insists that in our suffering He is doing us good, a greater good than relieving our suffering." (p. 172)

This makes me think of the scripture in James 1 that says, "Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness." But I feel I often refuse to take to heart the verse that follows: "Let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." It's FULL effect. Am I willing to wait for that? To endure the testing of my faith until God Himself lifts my head? Do I long to know God in a way that causes me to say I will remain steadfast, even when it hurts because I know that He is LOVING me in this suffering? Lord God, only by your Spirit can I persevere. My strength has limits. I am so greatly in need of yours.

One extra thing that God brought to my mind was this: the reason the flower heads were bent over is because the stems beneath them were strained under the weight of the seeds they were about to produce. They were bowed down, broken, dying, because they were about to produce their fruit. All that was needed was for the seeds to be harvested. Hebrews 12:11 says, "For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it." Suffering is training. It can feel like little deaths. But it has a result--for me to be made more like Christ, and to gain a deeper understanding of Him. To want Him more than anything else.

Brokenness, brokenness is what I long for
Brokenness is what I need
Brokenness, brokenness is what You want for me, for me
So take my heart, and mold it
Take my mind, transform it
Take my will, conform it, to Yours, to Yours, O Lord


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad