What wildflowers teach me.

As I write this, five hours remain until my day off comes to a close. The weekend will then be brought in by a 6 o'clock morning shift and a few thousand marriage conference attendees needing their coffee.

Life has sped on by, leaving me with hardly a breath to catch.

All the busyness has further proved my lack of talent in multitasking or handling schedules. Perhaps it is an art I have not yet learned. In the past year, many others besides myself have expressed how our days seem to be flying, which got me wondering...     

What happened to the quieter and slower side of life?

I love the calmness I experience when chirps and warbles are the only sounds to be heard. I love walking around my neighborhood before most people step out their doors or carry trashcans to the curb in the morning. I love watching clouds and pointing out their unique formations. I love sitting in the dirt to smell flowers. I love taking the time to know someone's heart beyond a plastered smile. I love writing without interruption. I love elongating the length of a meal preparation. I love sitting in silence, whether alone or amongst others who are comforted by the same. I love being able to hear God's voice unhurriedly. I love the memories of my Hawaiian days and cherishing all that holds a special place in my heart. I love setting down my phone and penning a letter to a far-off friend.

And I have not done those kinds of things lately. At least not enough.

I am notorious for picking weeds out of grassy areas and bundling them together. Nearly every time, I am instructed, "Those are just weeds, Erika." "Oh I know!" I would chime in, thinking there must be something wrong because I find them to be so enchanting – weeds or not. Similarly, while what I mentioned above could seem like just silly ways to waste my time, I know the value it means to me. 

Last Monday, I read from a book that I highly recommend called "Hinds' Feet On High Places" by Hannah Hurnard and felt moved when I saw this paragraph:

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.

A smile stretched across my face when I realized there was a reason I loved wild flowers so much.

It is quite okay to soak in these treasures and meet with the Creator in them. As I slow down, I begin to notice the details of life that God Himself is behind.

To me, the quieter and slower side of life does not necessarily require a drastic change in schedule, but a renewed heart that views life with vibrance and appreciation.

While it isn't wise to stay yes to everything like I have been, I can say yes to doing a few things that really bring life. And I can say yes to slowing my heart and mind down to praise God for the simplest things.

Like the wild flowers and His still, small voice.