Paper Flowers

 I haven't had a chance to go to find myself some yellow mums or some tulips or some other spirit-lifting spring greenery, so I made myself these tissue paper peonies out of desperation the other day. February this year has been a month of what seems like endless grey and I needed some brightness in my life. Yellow flowers, even fake ones, just make my day happier--particularly in the middle of a particularly bleak winter. It feels as though I haven't seen the sun in weeks. We've had snow and rain and drizzle and sleet, and the miasma of cloud above us seems endless. I don't need the heat of summer, but I just need some sun! I feel like I'm wilting here. . . I'm not a mushroom, after all!

My paper flowers are in no way comparable to the real thing. Real flowers have rich colour, satin petals, green leaves, and perfume. They are living things and no fake can compare--that is pretty obvious. But I'm so desperate for flowers, that even a poor semblance of them is acceptable. Even something that I made out of the flimsiest of paper with my scissors and a bit of wire is better than nothing.

While that may be a bit pathetic, I admit,  it is also nothing less than the truth, and that got me thinking.

I know that the sun is somewhere beyond clouds--the fact that I can see without needing a lamp is evidence of that--but knowing it is there and feeling it warm on my face are two very different things.

It is the same thing with other things in our lives. I can know that God has what is best for me planned, but when I can't see beyond the clouds I'm living through now, I don't always feel it. Faith says I can believe it, I can hope in it, can trust that it is true, but sometimes I sing with David, "How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?" (Psalm 13:1 ESV).

The future can seem like one endless grey winter sometimes with only periodic rays of sunshine piercing the gloom. It can make it hard to live with hope. All too often, it seems, we make the mistake of settling for what we can get, the paper flowers of this world. Like children not yet tall enough to see over the wall to the beautiful, sunny garden next door, we grasp at the paper flowers we find on our side, and cry when they aren’t perfumed and crumble away in our hands. Those taller than we are tell us how gorgeous that garden is, but we still live in doubt that it actually exists. If we could only see the other side of the wall, we say, we could make the right choice, we could live in faith, we could be content to wait. But we still clutch at the fakes, only to be disappointed when they don't fulfill us. And that is the problem: paper flowers don't really satisfy for long when what you really want, what you need, is the sun. 

Sometimes I find myself grasping at these paper flowers in a bid to somehow fill the empty spot that can only ever be filled by God. Sometimes it is hard to live without the instant gratification that "things" provide. There are times when I don't run to God like I should, but find other "lovers". In that sense I only too closely resemble Old Testament Israel, particularly as portrayed by Isaiah and Hosea. Thankfully, however, I don't have to rely on myself to bring me back "into true" because I can't do it myself. But just like in Hosea 2:14, God allures me and brings me back and reminds me that I don't have to make paper flowers, that He is the "Sun of Righteousness" and He is always there.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.

(Romans 15:13 ESV)

(As I was writing this, the sun peeked through a gap in the cloud cover: I even saw blue sky!! Briefly. Before the sun set and it was gone again.)