Once the Shepherd stooped and touched the flowers gently with His fingers, then said to Much-Afraid with a smile, “Humble yourself, and you will find that Love is spreading a carpet of flowers beneath your feet.”
Much-Afraid looked at Him earnestly. “I have often wondered about the wild flowers,” she said. “It does seem strange that such unnumbered multitudes should bloom in the wild places of the earth where perhaps nobody ever sees them and the goats and the cattle can walk over them and crush them to death. They have so much beauty and sweetness to give and no one on whom to lavish it, nor who will even appreciate it.”
The look the Shepherd turned on her was very beautiful. “Nothing my Father and I have made is ever wasted,” He said quietly, “and the little wild flowers have a wonderful lesson to teach. They offer themselves so sweetly and confidently and willingly, even if it seems that there is no one to appreciate them. Just as though they sang a joyous little song to themselves, that it is so happy to love, even though one is not loved in return.
“I must tell you a great truth, Much-Afraid, which only the few understand. All the fairest beauties in the human soul, its greatest victories, and its most splendid achievements are always those which no one else knows anything about, or can only dimly guess at. Every inner response of the human heart to Love and every conquest over self-love is a new flower on the tree of Love. Many a quiet, ordinary, and hidden love, unknown to the world, is a veritable garden in which Love’s flowers and fruits have come to such perfection that it is a place of delight where the King of love himself walks and rejoices with His friends. Some of My servants have indeed won great visible victories and are rightly loved and reverenced by other men, but always their greatest victories are like the wild flowers, those which no one knows about.”~ From Hinds Feet on High Places.
Isn’t that beautiful? It’s like a caress to be touched even by His hand. How happy that flower is. It sits where it’s planted, garbed only with the simple yet sweet beauty its Creator gave it. Dancing in the breeze, kissed by the sun, and ne’er a care in the world those flowers have.
I love the fact that it’s the quiet, sometimes unseen labor of love that is remembered most by the Kingdom of love.
I leave you my friend with this paragraph. Feels like spring doesn’t it?
Till Jesus wills it,