Gentle Flower
Gentle flower in the breeze,
He cares, He knows, He even sees.
The winds of life blow fast and high,
Taking your petal treasures as they go by.
You think life's beauty has been stripped away,
And these hard, rugged winds seem to taunt you and say,
"Your shine time is over. None shall see you the same!
Your petals are gone. You're a green with no name."
But even now the Father of Time sees—
Past the clouds, and the leaves, and even the trees.
He sees into the present, as your leaves start to fall.
He knows you wonder, "What will be left at all?"
He sees past the future, as winter gets cold,
And you feel somewhat dead, somewhat tired, and old.
But He knows the plans that He has for you—
It is more than you can think of, more than you can do.
For you will adorn His secret garden, raised by His holy hand,
And He has taken you aside, that you would move from good to grand.
So little flower in the breeze, may this put your little mind at ease:
The Father of Time loves to rescue little flowers on their knees.
Devotional Thought:
We all face seasons when the winds of life blow strong, tearing at our peace, our identity, and even our joy. Like the flower in the poem, we may feel stripped bare, unseen, or forgotten. But our Heavenly Father sees beyond what is visible. He sees not only who you are but who you are becoming.
Even in winter’s chill, when growth seems still and our beauty feels lost. God is at work beneath the surface. He prunes, protects, and prepares us to flourish again. The Father of Time does not forget His flowers. He does not discart the green stalk or the weary leaf. Instead He whispers, “You are mine. I am not finished with you yet.”
Reflection Questions:
What “winds” in your life have made you feel like your beauty or purpose has been lost?
Can you think of a time when God used a hidden season to grow something deeper in you?
What might it look like for you to rest in His care today, like a flower bending gently in His breeze?
“Dance of the Gloves”
A fight to the finish,
a fight to the end—
blow by blow
with my dearest savior and friend.
A swing to the left,
a block to my right,
my God and protector
has taught me to fight.
What I once thought a battle,
I now see as play:
fist to fist in this dance,
each moment, each day.
What is it like
to step in the ring,
toe to toe
With my Maker, Master, and King?
To throw up my fists,
to shout out and cry,
yet know in this fight
I am safe by and by.
In joy or in pain
He takes every blow,
and lands them precisely
where He wants me to grow.
When the fight leaves me tired,
weary and worn,
I can trust He will heal
every part that is torn.
So today I will lace up
my gloves for the fight,
and swing every blow
with all of my might.
For each strike lifts me higher,
each struggle, each shove—
a fight with my Father,
my Savior, my Love.
February 27, 2025
