Dead flowers.
On my knees at our ministry in Nepal, I held them in my hands, tears sliding effortlessly off my cheeks. With palms wide open and extended up, I begged the Lord to bring them back to life. I pleaded with Him for thirty minutes to showcase His power through my hands, and to revive the two measly little flowers I had found on the sidewalk less than an hour ago.
To an outsider looking in, it all appeared very dramatic… well, probably because it was.
Because an hour earlier, I was walking down the streets, on my way to ministry when I spotted two beautifully purple flowers vibrant against the grey pavement. I passed them, giving them little thought. Flowers were cut and fell from the stem onto the sidewalk all the time… why would these be any different? But after a few steps I stopped.
“Diana, I got those flowers for you.” I heard the Lord say.
I skipped back to them and picked them up tenderly off the ground.
For ME?
I was something of a star-crossed lover the remaining mile walk, imagining all the work God must have gone through to put those two little purple flowers in my path- how as the seed was planted, and the flowers were watered, God was thinking of me. How as they grew, God was looking forward to the smile on my face as I picked them up off the ground. How these flowers were cut, transported, passed from person to person, and how they had fallen right in my path in September in Nepal, just so God could remind me of His deep love for me and His attention to every last detail (even down to the very color purple).
In that moment I was struck with the reality of God’s specific and intentional pursuit for me.
And as all month I had been struggling to believe that I could hear the voice of God, that God saw me, and that He loved me individually, these flowers were the lifeline I had been reaching for. So I tended to them gently. I held them carefully, all the way to the house, and through my quiet time.
God thought of ME as He created these flowers.
I wanted to keep them forever. I HAD to keep them forever. This was the best gift I had ever received, from the best lover I would ever have.
I began to beg for God’s supernatural ability to breathe His life back into the little petals. I prayed those flowers would never die, but would live forever, and would stand as a constant reminder to me that God knows me intimately, hears my voice, and works His powers through me.
But as the minutes slowly ticked by, I watched the flowers die. The more I begged, the more the life seeped out of the stem and the petals, until they were nothing but withered and shriveled weeds. I was devastated. How could these hands raise the dead to life, if they couldn’t even revive sidewalk flowers? How would I remember how deeply God knew me if I couldn’t keep the flowers as a reminder? Why would God give me such a good gift, only to take it away?
Diana, if I gave you these flowers, don’t you think I am capable to give you so much more?
–
These past two days have been crazy. Not just weird… straight crazy. After four months of serving the Lord fearlessly together, loving orphans and women relentlessly, killing cockroaches mercilessly, sharing everything we had (money, toilet paper, time, space, opinions, feelings, growth, love, frustrations, food, you name it, we shared it), bumping into each other during morning and evening routines in the bathroom, living in shoulder to shoulder community with my family of Established in Love, it is time to enter into a new season.
It is time for a team change.
What a beautifully wonderful heart-breaking season this is.
A time to say goodbye, and a time to say hello.
When all was said and done, I was sitting in a circle with five new, strong, gorgeous women, who are flourishing in their relationship with the Lord. As I looked around at each new face, and let my excitement build at the wonderment of what this next season would hold, a word came to my mind.
I brushed it away. There is a café here in Siem Reap named Bloom, and as much as I love cupcakes, I knew this was no time to be pondering on delicious pastries.
How silly and frivolous our understanding can be of the Lord’s divine planning!
It’s a good thing the Lord knows to work in pairs, and as my ladies and I prayed for a team name, He placed the same word on Bekah’s heart, and after the team rallied around the name in excitement, we made it official.
Coming at you live, from Siem Reap, Cambodia, I give you….. *drum roll, please!*…..
TEAM BLOOM!
–
Tonight, the men on our squad humbled themselves in service to us. Despite the ever ominous 8/40 male/female ratio in this family, our men wrote us each a note to remind us of our value in Christ, and passed out cookies and roses along with the notes, speaking over us that we were each beautiful, strong, courageous, wise, and influential.
Overwhelmed with gratitude, I rolled the stem of my rose between my thumb and forefinger and took in the details of the beautiful pink petals, while I held back the tears of gratitude for the humility of my brothers- the men that God has given me to do life with on this wonderful thing called the world race.
And I was back in Nepal, in that space with my palms open, begging for the life of those sidewalk flowers.
See? Isn’t this rose so much better? It’s from me, from the hands of your brothers, in pursuit of your heart.
I smiled softly, in disbelief of God’s amazing orchestration.
He’s got a pretty elaborate plan of pursuit for me, if you hadn’t noticed, hahaha.
And then one my ladies said it,
“Guys, BLOOM!”
She raised her rose in the air for a cheer.
Look at your teammates.
Look at each woman.
They are going to Bloom on this team.
Look how I have given you not just one flower, or two, but five… a garden of my love to remind you each and every day that I am in everlasting pursuit of you.
He whispered softly into my attending ear.
It’s time for your highest point of beauty yet.
