Sometimes the most beautiful things are never seen

A few weeks back my mother-in-law sent me a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. I’m pretty sure it was only the second time someone had sent me flowers. The first was definitely when my husband and I had first started dating. He lived in Missouri and I was in Minnesota and he sent a cute little bouquet of Gerber Daisies (my favorite at the time). This bunch was bit more elaborate and smelled phenomenal.

In fact, those tall purple things, they are my new favorite flower because they smell AMAZE! They are called “stock flowers” just in case you were wondering.

But what really caught me about these flowers happened a few days later. As the flowers started to get a little tired and a little wilty, I took a close look at the tulips. I’m going to make an assumption that you’ve seen a tulip in its most common form. Those delicate cups of the most brilliant colors. But as the days went on, that delicate cup opened to a stunning display.

I guess I haven’t had enough flowers in my life, because I was oblivious to the fact that tulips opened to such a full and stunning flower. I had no idea how much their insides would remind me of a lily or how flawlessly the colors would pull out from the center in such perfection. I just thought they remained little teacups of color until they died.

As I took the time to enjoy this hidden beauty it got me thinking about my own life. How so much of who I am is kept reserved for the people with the greatest access to my life. How the most beautiful things may never be seen by the world, not because I am hiding them, but because they are private or sacred. Or simply internal. That the battles I fight may remain between my ears, so the glorious victory is never shared or celebrated.

This week was rough. And I honestly wanted to drink wine in the tub and then cry myself to sleep on more than one occasion. But I didn’t. Because little people need to be fed. And cared for and educated. And I know the Lord saw that faithfulness and saw all my thoughts that no one else can see and called it beautiful. Even though no one else saw it. I know he celebrated each victory every time I decided not to scream. Or slam doors. Or lock myself in the bathroom with a bottle of wine.

And I didn’t cry myself to sleep. I bought myself some more yummy smelling flowers, committed to keep trying to do this life well and pushed through. Because sometimes all we need to remember that there is beauty inside our mess…is to put some beauty right in the middle of our mess.

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