Flowers to Tumbleweeds
November 17, 2021
“That is why we are not discouraged. Though outwardly we are wearing out, inwardly we are renewed day by day.”
2 Corinthians 4:16
Fall has always been a beautiful time of year for me. No matter where we have lived, in the Midwest, on the East Coast, or on the West Coast, fall brings change - leaves turn vibrant colors, the temperature fluctuates, and we bring out our sweaters to prepare for the cool days and nights ahead. But there is also a bittersweetness that creeps in when fall arrives as well. The perennial flowers and plants of the spring and summer months end their season of blooming and begin to dry up as they enter into the period of rest that is winter. During this time, they slumber and lie in wait until spring returns when they are restored and come to life once again.
As we began our walk the other day, I happened to notice Remi sniffing a lone tumbleweed that had blown into our landscaping after a windy night. As we continued our walk, I saw there were many tumbleweeds that lined the edge of the road. I wondered how I had missed seeing them before. As I looked a little closer, I discovered that some of the tumbleweeds still had delicate pink and white flowers on them. I had never seen this before, and I was intrigued that a “weed” that “tumbled” could be so pretty.
And then an analogy hit me; we will all be a sort of tumbleweed some day. I thought about the time a few falls ago when I was helping my dad get settled into an assisted living residence. My dad was 90 years old at the time, and I remember how important it was for me to share with my dad’s caregivers who he had been earlier in his life. I wanted to share with them what had been that “flowering” period in his life. As I looked around at the other people who resided there with him, I realized that I was looking at only a sliver of the life they all had lived. I didn’t know anything about their youth or the stories of their college fun. Most of the people were there without their spouse, and many had family members that were no longer around. Their lives of raising a family, or having a career, and celebrating their life achievements and successes were lost to those who now surrounded them. They seemed to be a little like the lone tumbleweed Remi had stopped to pay attention to - alone in their waning years, some away from their family and disguised in bodies that no longer reflected the youthful beauty and ability they once exhibited. I wanted to expand my dad’s caregivers’ understanding of who he had been so that they could see beyond the man they saw now in front of them. His caregivers were wonderful, and they treated him with dignity and love, but I realized not all elderly people are as fortunate as he was.
In the Scripture verse above, Paul wrote to the church in Corinth encouraging them not to grow weary of facing the persecution they faced as they told others about Christ. May we also take to heart his encouragement to never give up, even though this life can be filled with disappointment, loneliness, pain, and loss. Like the perennial flowers that rest in winter, each of us will one day find ourselves needing to draw on our inner strength to get us through as we wait for Christ’s resurrecting power to sustain and renew us day by day.
As Remi and I passed the tumbleweeds when we returned home that day, I remembered the people who lived in my dad’s community. Though outwardly many were physically and mentally wearing out, I knew that inwardly there was still a remnant of those delicate pink and white flowers; the dignity and beauty that were representative of a life well lived. If we live long enough, we, too, will know the passage from flowers to tumbleweeds. I hope we will recognize and cherish the flowering season of our life that precedes the maturation of the tumbleweed season we may face. May we be reassured that Christ’s spirit dwells within each one of us who believes in him. He will renew and encourage us day after day so that we will not be discouraged in this life. And like the perennials in springtime, he will restore us to life once again after our season of winter rest.
The next time a tumbleweed crosses your path, I encourage you to look past the tough, woody exterior and remember the soft, delicate flowers that once were in its place. I hope you will spend a moment paying attention to it like Remi did and see the beauty of each stage of life.
