Wild or Nurtured?

 

The purple arms of buddleia stretch out, their heavy heads of blossom drawing them downwards towards the drive. They obstruct the narrow lane, but until their time is past, there they will remain.

Along the road, rockets of fuchsia-coloured willow herb blast towards the sky. Not weighed down by a heavy load, they reach upwards, a joyful display of colour.

Round both bushes buzz and bob a variety of insect life, from butterflies to bees. A pleasant hum surrounds them.

This is the day the Lord has made: I will rejoice and be glad in it.

Yesterday I was more like the buddleia, bending with the weight of anxieties for others. Today, with the sunshine on my face, I feel more like the willow herb. Funny how the willow herb is considered a weed, whereas we nurture and care for the buddleia.

I think Jesus probably longs for us all to be more like the weeds of willow herb, growing wild and free, where he plants us, allowing any seed we might produce to be blown by the quixotic wind of the Spirit. Those worries that rest heavily on us, bowing us down: today I resolve to give them, once again, to Jesus, my rock and my salvation, who invites me to join him in the joyful dance of life as I worship and love him.