A couple of years ago, I kept this crinkled white napkin tucked away on a section of my bookshelf. On it were a few dried wildflowers. (Very Pinterest-craft-esque, clearly.)
I started to collect these flowers when hints of spring began whispering their way through Michigan. As soon as the temperature broke 45 degrees (a rare sight in March), I pushed myself to go for more walks. I knew I needed to incorporate more physical activity and fresh air. These walks were an attempt to alleviate the anxiety that was working its way through my body in ways more unnerving than I'd ever experienced. What initially seemed like an unexplained medical condition, after several thankfully-clear medical tests, seemed to be panic attacks of varying intensities that left me feeling exhausted and helpless. Medication was something I'd considered, but I wanted to try other avenues first, so I began taking steps to ease my mind.
Literal steps.
On my walks, I would call friends, send voice memo prayers, or listen to music. I would also try to notice. A counselor I began meeting with encouraged me to practice a grounding strategy when I felt a panic attack coming on.
(5 things I see, 4 things I can hear, 3 things I can touch...)
As I went through this exercise in my mind on my walks, I began noticing these wildflowers. So I would grab a few and collect them in my coat pocket. Some I honestly forgot about until I felt a weird crunch a few days later, reaching for keys and finding petals instead. But these others I saved, maybe because I guess I just wanted to remember.
In the book Hinds Feet on High Places, an allegory of the Christian life, the main character Much-Afraid follows the Chief Shepherd and journeys from her home of fear to the high places where freedom is.
There's a scene referencing wildflowers early on in the book that I especially love:
“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 the 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 themslves 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 a 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 dimly guess at….Many a quiet, ordinary, and hidden life, 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. Learn this lesson now, down here in the valley, Much-Afraid, and when you get to the steep places of the mountains it will comfort you.’”
Much like the wildflowers in this story, some of my greatest victories have been, like the Great Shepherd in Hinds Feet described, "like the wildflowers, those which no one knows about." For example, my struggle with panic attacks a few springs ago. Only a small group of people were aware that I was struggling with these attacks, let alone the reasons for them, but Jesus knew. And yet from that season, I gained the beauty of healing from some difficult experiences I walked through in the years prior, as well as a deeper intimacy with Jesus as the One who has carried me all along and provided me genuine peace.
Wildflowers are, as the name implies, wild. One definition Merriam-Webster gives for the word wild is "deviating from the intended or expected course." Perhaps you too are in a season of life that is “deviating from the intended or unexpected course.” Maybe you’d also characterize this season as one in which you feel as if you must be hidden, like you’ve been waiting for the seeker to find you in the game, but it’s been such a long time hiding that you now feel forgotten.
Hear me say, from lived experience (both then and now), that there is beauty in "a quiet, ordinary, and hidden life." Not a curated life highlighted on a social media reel, but a humble and honest one shared with a trusted few and surrendered before the King of Love to prune and tend to. Such a life is vulnerable, and honestly, incredibly hard at times. However, a surrendered life yields the greatest beauty and sweetest fragrance.
Kind of like a wildflower bouquet of sorts.
“For thus said the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel, ‘In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.'" Isaiah 30:15a
Loves this piece and I love wildflowers even more now with that perspective!
So encouraging! Thank you ❤️