In the middle of the sidewalk, a flower was growing. “It’s a weed,” someone said.
Very well. Looks like a flower to me.
A long drive. Flowers everywhere on both sides of the highway.
“They’re weeds,” I heard.
But the mass of blue was stunning.
Looks like a flower to me.
“Basically, a weed is anything you do not want growing where you want your flowers to grow.”
Well they still look like flowers to me.
Growth is a hard subject, and many a book has been written on the matter.
How to grow, how to succeed, how to, how to. Be your best.
Don’t be a weed.
A wildflower is anything but a weed.
A flower that grows with reckless abandon and neglect, usually, it is acclimated to its surroundings.
It is a flower that will grow, as my father says, “ever regardless.”
Many times when I share my story, people cringe away from me as if it is about to leap on them.
So I am sure other survivors have found this to be true as well as we all seek our paths to healing.
How do I grow?
Plant yourself. Absorb the amount of water you need from the soil. Lift up your face to the Son. Claim every bit of ground that is available for you to grow. And smile, knowing that though you view yourself a weed, you really are a flower who has learned to grow and even be a blessing to others just because you are you.
Chances are, if you are a survivor of sexual abuse or abuse of any kind, you do not really see yourself as a blessing.
But you are. I am. And it is time we see that beauty.
More on this another day.
In the meantime, I bet you will never see a wildflower the same again.