The Sunflower

She desperately wanted to deepen her connection to God. She had read every devotional she owned, studied her notes from Bible study, asked her pastor for advice, and followed every recommendation, yet still, she felt so far away. 

“Love,” God spoke to my heart, “I know what you are thinking but sometimes the answer is not what you might think it is.” 

“What is the answer?” I asked, but my attention returned to the woman. 

Sitting in church, it no longer felt the same as it used to. She once looked forward to hearing the message, following the rituals, and seeking the Holy Spirit. But now, the sermon felt familiar, she had heard the same one last year at this time, the same lesson about tithing, the same appeal for donations, the same use of guilt to encourage giving. She understood that the church was an organization that needed support to survive and, in some ways, to serve. Yet, she recognized that it wasn’t the request for support that was bothered her, it was something deeper, within her, calling her to seek something different. 

“God,” she prayed, “show me,” she hesitated, “the way? The light? The answer?” she giggled at the silliness of her prayer. 

“Love,” God spoke to my soul, “let’s visit her.” 

“Visit her?” 

God smirked. Then, revealing his appearance as that of an ordinary man, he lifted his hand, waved at me, and teleported to Earth. 

That Sunday, she decided to visit the local farmer’s market, skipping church service. She was drawn to cut yellow sunflowers. 

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” a man said, startling her out of her inner thoughts. 

“Yes, yes they are,” she replied with a smile.

“Late for this time of year,” the man remarked. The man was God. “I just knew they were meant to be at the market today. I had a feeling that they would bring a smile to at least one person’s face.” 

She smiled at his cheesiness. God picked up a sunflower and lifted it to his nose, slowly breathing in its essence. 

“Sunflowers are known to be healers,” he said quietly. 

His words piqued her interest. She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. As he placed the sunflower back in the container of water, he noticed her looking at him. 

“Here,” he said, handing her a flower. “A gift for you.”  

“Thank you.” She lifted the flower up and nodded in acceptance and appreciation. “This is beautiful. Thank you so much!”  

Holding the sunflower, she felt her spirit lift. She felt a higher level of joy, grace, ease, and beauty washing over her. 

The cut sunflower sat in her kitchen window, basking in the light of the sun. It lasted much longer than she expected. Several weeks passed, yet the flower had not wilted. She began seeing sunflowers everywhere, at the grocery store, on items in shops, in her favorite TV shows, and more. 

One day, staring at her mystery flower, she decided to try to find out more about the flower vendor she had met. She went to the farmers market website and couldn’t find the vendor listed. Confused, she called the market organizer, who told her that they hadn’t had a flower vendor all summer. 

She hung up the phone and stared at the sunflower, suddenly afraid to touch it. 

The sunflower consumed her thoughts. No matter where she went, her mind always returned to the sunflower. 

A week later, as she passed by the sunflower in her kitchen, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, a single petal had fallen. Slowly, she walked over to the counter and stared at the vase. The flower was beginning to shrivel. 

For the first time, she stood at an intersection of fear, fear of touching the flower and fear of losing the flower. 

She stood staring at the bloom. Somewhere, from deep inside, an intense longing to hold it again surged through her. She slowly lifted her hand, reaching toward it. When she was an inch away, a rush of courage took over, and she quickly snatched the flower from the vase. 

Electricity shot through her body. She gasped. 

She immediately saw a vision of God, and just as quickly, she let go. Time seemed to slow as the flower fell from her grasp, slowly falling and falling and falling, finally resting on the kitchen floor. 

Her heart felt conflicted. Did she ask for this? Why did she have a vision of God? She blinked in disbelief. “What just happened?” she whispered. 

Slowly, she crouched down and gently, carefully lifted the flower, cradling it with both hands like a precious treasure. She placed it gently on the counter next to the microwave. 

“Be not afraid to hold it again,” she heard a voice speak from within her mind. 

The voice felt both familiar and foreign. 

Tentatively, she reached for the stem and grasped it once more. 

This time, she gasped a deep breath in.  As she exhaled, she was overcome with the most divinely peaceful feeling of love, faith, trust, thanksgiving, gratitude, and so much more.

She closed her eyes and allowed the feelings to wash over her. 

When she was ready, she returned the sunflower to the vase on the windowsill. 

The stem straightened, the petals perked up and it stood tall once more. 

“Thank you,” she whispered to God. 

“Be still, my love, be still,” God whispered to her soul. 

She placed her hand on her heart and felt God’s love as warmth  radiated within her chest. 

I returned to the heavens, standing next to God. Jokingly, I said, “I want a magic flower.”  

“You are the flower, love,” God replied. 

We began walking side by side down a dirt path. 

“Where are we headed?” I asked.

“We have more people to visit.”