The significance of the sunflowers
I’ve been longing to write about the sunflowers and their significance to me this year, but there hasn’t been time. So today I set aside a few moments to process and put into words what these beautiful yellow flowers have meant to me in this season.
Three years ago we moved from the east side of the city to a small pueblo. We moved here to heal a bit and to bring our children a sense of home. As my last post shares, we found that here, but not without a little suffering along the way. The road to a happy home wasn’t without its bumps and bruises, but we arrived and in the end we can say we love and appreciate both the destination and the journey.
A little background to my sunflower story is the story of how we arrived in the sunflower fields this year. We went into last summer knowing that we would be going home this summer. We’ve been here in Spain for 4 years and it was time for a return to our roots for a short season. So we have had a year to prepare our hearts and minds for the journey we are taking next week. We savored each opportunity as it came our way. We drove to see snow for the first time in five years(or more) just to see the excitement on the girls faces when they realized where we were going. We took a boat to Morocco when the girls finished their geography unit on Africa because it’s 30 minutes away by ferry and when else could we do that? We took the time to really enjoy our favorite people, places and meals this year. We took sunset walks almost every night through the campo behind our house, and we enjoyed having our pets near us. We didn’t get to choose them for our family, rather they chose us, and we’ll miss them in this next season while we’re separated for a while. We enjoyed ministry in the city we came to serve and we found our niche among the international community and among students. We tried out new schooling options for our three girls and we had (what I would honestly describe as) the very best year of our four years here. I saw my girls grow in their confidence, their resilience and their self awareness. Separated from peer pressure and intense academic pressure, they were able to enjoy their studies and find their own personal areas of interest and passion. Lucy thrived in her sweet little school and we will miss it terribly while we’re away.
So back to the sunflowers. Because we’ve spent a year really enjoying learning and making every opportunity an opportunity to learn, we have been more keenly aware of nature this year. As we took our sunset walks to view the miraculous diversity of creation and the way God paints the sky differently every single night, we saw the first indication the sunflowers were coming. The long stalks began to grow strong. The small petals first began to form. And then, as if overnight, they burst forth from the ground. Taller than our smallest child, with centers larger than my head, they were here. In all their glory. Beautiful, bright blooms craning their faces to the sun. Looking for the light. All day they seek the light. (Isn’t this a lesson for us? To spend our days searching for the light, rather than fearing the darkness?) And all the while, their seeds are growing. Ripening. I did some research on sunflowers and I find it so interesting that while it would appear the flower is the best part, it’s not until the flower dies that the seeds are harvested. And isn’t that just like God? He gives us beautiful gifts to enjoy while we are waiting on the true gift. Just like this life of ours. The real gift is eternity. It’s being with our creator, worshipping him and giving him all glory and honor and praise forever. But in the meantime we get such a gift. This life, lived with those with love, complete with heartaches and joys immeasurable, all in preparation for that ultimate joy.
So as we walked through the sunflowers. As we passed through them, savoring their short glorious appearance behind our home, we were reminded of our creator. Of the work he is always doing. You see, for 11.5 months out of every year, that field is empty. It looks like nothing. But for two glorious weeks, the sunflowers appear. And their beauty gives way to the harvest. To the seeds that will bring nourishment and sustenance to bodies. To the oil that will prepare meals. To the seeds that will fall and replace those that have just grown, bringing more beauty and more goodness to the land in the years to come. But if you walk that field from July to May, you’re likely to miss it. You can’t see what God is doing just below the surface. And that was the big takeaway for me this year. Our lives are like those sunflowers. Our time in Spain, like those sunflowers. It takes years to see what God is doing. It takes longer to reap the harvest. But the wait is worth it. And there is such beauty in the journey. You just have to know where to look.
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