I have always loved wildflowers. They are the flowers that spread past boundaries, leaving their mark of beauty in a land of control and order. They are disorderly — not confined only to the space the world has allowed them. They are wild and untamed. Free from approval. They bring life to the valleys and make their presence known in the mountains. Their very purpose is to create beauty in the chaos; a space that is soothing for a troubled mind. If you’ll let them, they’ll spread out a beautiful landscape of color just for you.
Some might get frustrated with wildflowers and their own inability to keep them contained. Which then you are offered a choice. You can stay frustrated with them, or you can learn to love them fiercely and let them be what they are. Wild.
In the beginning stages of a plants life, it’s hard to know the difference between a wildflower and a weed. I did a little research on gardening and I found this advice helpful in more ways than one: “Wildflowers are at times mistaken for weeds, so research the native flowers in your garden before you kill them.”
I wonder, how often have we looked at something foreign in our lives and mistaken a wildflower for a weed? In our haste, we’ve ripped out the plant from the root without really knowing what it was to produce in the first place. You might think ‘better safe than sorry’ but I am starting to strongly disagree with this statement. When we live this ‘better safe than sorry’ life and start a premature demolition on places in our hearts we have little knowledge of, we might tragically rip up the coming blooms God has been so diligently sowing.
There is a right time to rip out weeds at the root, but not without carefully considering first that they might be flowers that bloom. This takes knowledge, restraint, and a lot of time in the dirt to figure it out.
God is exponentially patient with us. He’s teaching us how to be good gardeners and great farmers. He does not fear the weeds in the garden. There is a reason he’s created the wildflowers and the weeds to look similar in the beginning. It takes one of great skill to recognize their differences this early. One whom has tilled the land since the beginning of time. One whom has the toughened skin of a sun kissed man of the fields. And He’s ready to show us.
We must be patient while we learn this — trusting the one whom reveals that the secret actually lies in the soil. But we must never hurry the revealing. For the process is as precious and intimate as it sounds. And maybe, in the end, we might catch a glimpse of similarity between the wildflower and the human heart, releasing it to love as wildly and unapologetically as these flowering fields of color.