By Melanie Meis, Guest Columnist
I often enjoy reflecting on a portion of the book Hinds' Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard. I love wildflowers and in the story the Chief Shepherd uses a series of wildflowers to teach the main character, Much-Afraid, life lessons on her journey to the high places.
One of my favorite parts is when Much-Afraid comes upon a little flower named “Acceptance With Joy”. Jutting out bravely from the desert’s harsh wasteland, the little flower strains with all her might to stand and display herself with joy. Her placement off the beaten path seems completely insignificant, yet she has “accepted with joy” her station; completely content with her call to exist only for the pleasure of her Creator.
I recently had the opportunity to revisit this bit of literature in living color when I headed out to my personal prayer rock. Burdened by the life and death health issue a friend is facing, I cried out to the Lord on her behalf. After praying for her, I paused as I often do in the peacefulness of my surroundings. My prayer rock sits on the rough, rocky side of a small, high-desert mountain ridge that cradles our house. It is here that God whispers to my heart.
Spring is finding its way to this rocky side of my mountain; awakening a wondrous fascination in me. While quietly glancing around at the natural scatterings of desert mountain décor, I noticed a cluster of petite, yellow flowers, emerging from a grouping of rocks. My thoughts drifted to “Acceptance with Joy”.
Recently, I seem to struggle with my own effectiveness in the kingdom of God. Does my small life really mean something in the grand scheme of things? In God’s vast effort of wooing the world to Himself, do I ever make a difference? My days tend to run together in an endless stream of cooking, cleaning, parenting, grand parenting, homeschooling, and a jumble of activities that sum up my “Regular Life”. Over the years, I’ve taken comfort in the image of that flower, reminding myself to stand tall, positioning and shining my face in the direction of God. On occasion, however, I catch myself foundering one step beyond mere existence and questioning, “But, Lord, am I making a difference to anyone else, truly?”
After awhile and a few tears, my gaze fell on a solitary bee delicately dancing on that small cluster of flowers. It went about its pursuit of nourishment, unknowingly accumulating pollen that might actually aid in the making of honey. I watched intently, pondering the Glory of the Creator seen in the intricacies of the wings, the legs, and mouth as it went about the business it was created to carry out amongst the flowers and rocks.
The Lord gently impressed on my heart how those small, seemingly insignificant flowers, mostly unseen by humanity, not only display their beauty, but they are the host and provision for this one bee. The journey of the bee, may in turn, provide sweetness and healing through honey to someone, somewhere. Before I knew it, a small white butterfly then came flitting along, landing on another cluster of flowers a short distance away. Captivated in the moment, I closely observed the butterfly using these sweet petals as restful provision.
Momentarily, she slowly made her way along the flora of the mountainside and eventually disappeared from view. I felt warm tears again filling my eyes, as I realized the sweet activity of beauty and provision being displayed before me was my lesson for the day.
Like these little flowers, it’s true that I am placed among a bit of rugged and rocky ground in my “Regular Life”. At times, it seems I am largely unnoticed, unused or affirmed, but my Creator smiles in my direction. I can rise each day and joyfully surrender my countenance to Him with contentment in existing for His delight alone. Beyond that, when I put my trust in Him, even if I’m on the back side of my mountain, He may in His way and timing, bring those that need to rest a moment from their weary journey, or those that need to draw spiritual nourishment: a hug, a prayer, an encouraging word to help them carry on with the path carved out for them.
God then brought to my remembrance the Scripture He gave to me right after we moved to this little corner of the mountain:
“My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely” (Song of Solomon 2:14 NIV).
With tears dried and a a spirit of renewal, I joyfully “showed my face” to the Son, while letting Him “hear my voice” as I continued in prayer for others and finding acceptance with joy within my own heart once again.
About the Guest Columnist:
Melanie Meis enjoys "Regular Life" in the beautiful, high-desert mountains east of Albuquerque, New Mexico. She resides with her husband, Tony, and four of her eight children.
By Melanie Meis, Guest Columnist
I often enjoy reflecting on a portion of the book Hinds' Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard. I love wildflowers and in the story the Chief Shepherd uses a series of wildflowers to teach the main character, Much-Afraid, life lessons on her journey to the high places.
I recently had the opportunity to revisit this bit of literature in living color when I headed out to my personal prayer rock. Burdened by the life and death health issue a friend is facing, I cried out to the Lord on her behalf. After praying for her, I paused as I often do in the peacefulness of my surroundings. My prayer rock sits on the rough, rocky side of a small, high-desert mountain ridge that cradles our house. It is here that God whispers to my heart.
Spring is finding its way to this rocky side of my mountain; awakening a wondrous fascination in me. While quietly glancing around at the natural scatterings of desert mountain décor, I noticed a cluster of petite, yellow flowers, emerging from a grouping of rocks. My thoughts drifted to “Acceptance with Joy”.
Recently, I seem to struggle with my own effectiveness in the kingdom of God. Does my small life really mean something in the grand scheme of things? In God’s vast effort of wooing the world to Himself, do I ever make a difference? My days tend to run together in an endless stream of cooking, cleaning, parenting, grand parenting, homeschooling, and a jumble of activities that sum up my “Regular Life”. Over the years, I’ve taken comfort in the image of that flower, reminding myself to stand tall, positioning and shining my face in the direction of God. On occasion, however, I catch myself foundering one step beyond mere existence and questioning, “But, Lord, am I making a difference to anyone else, truly?”
The Lord gently impressed on my heart how those small, seemingly insignificant flowers, mostly unseen by humanity, not only display their beauty, but they are the host and provision for this one bee. The journey of the bee, may in turn, provide sweetness and healing through honey to someone, somewhere. Before I knew it, a small white butterfly then came flitting along, landing on another cluster of flowers a short distance away. Captivated in the moment, I closely observed the butterfly using these sweet petals as restful provision.
Momentarily, she slowly made her way along the flora of the mountainside and eventually disappeared from view. I felt warm tears again filling my eyes, as I realized the sweet activity of beauty and provision being displayed before me was my lesson for the day.
Like these little flowers, it’s true that I am placed among a bit of rugged and rocky ground in my “Regular Life”. At times, it seems I am largely unnoticed, unused or affirmed, but my Creator smiles in my direction. I can rise each day and joyfully surrender my countenance to Him with contentment in existing for His delight alone. Beyond that, when I put my trust in Him, even if I’m on the back side of my mountain, He may in His way and timing, bring those that need to rest a moment from their weary journey, or those that need to draw spiritual nourishment: a hug, a prayer, an encouraging word to help them carry on with the path carved out for them.
God then brought to my remembrance the Scripture He gave to me right after we moved to this little corner of the mountain:
With tears dried and a a spirit of renewal, I joyfully “showed my face” to the Son, while letting Him “hear my voice” as I continued in prayer for others and finding acceptance with joy within my own heart once again.
Melanie Meis enjoys "Regular Life" in the beautiful, high-desert mountains east of Albuquerque, New Mexico. She resides with her husband, Tony, and four of her eight children.