The Littlest Flower.

This is the story of a little seed who became a flower.

Years ago, my Father purchased a field, and He planted seeds in the soil.

He picked me up out of His pocket, and whispered: “It’s time, little seed.”

He tucked me carefully in the dirt, gave me plenty of water and sunlight, and breathed upon me that I might grow up strong and tall.

My roots began to grow at the touch of His breath, and I could feel my shell bursting as He filled me with life.

But then a thief came and spread weeds among us.

These weeds began choking the roots of my brothers and sisters, and then they began choking my own and I could grow no longer.

Suffocating from the choke of the weeds, I began to distrust my Father’s love for me, for how could He allow such horror to take place among His little seeds?

I began to fear the death that seemed to await me and lost my strength in fighting the grip of the ferocious weeds. I withered more and more each day and cried out for my Father only to hear no reply.

Then one day, what would have been my last, a new young man was sent out to walk among the seeds and the weeds. This was a dangerous walk, you see, because the weeds were sharp and thorny and no matter where He stepped, He would be cut and bruised.

But nevertheless, the Son, with a look of great love in His eyes, continued through the field.

He bent down and plucked each weed out of the soil, spreading new soil and fresh water among the little seeds. He was careful not to wound the delicate roots of the seeds as He saved them from the choke of the weeds.

When He got to me, He was quite bruised and was bleeding from His face and His hands and His feet and His sides and I was quite in awe of Him. For we were just little seeds, what did He have to do with us?

He knelt down close to me and plucked the weeds from around me, and suddenly, I could breathe. And my, what a good breath it was. He whispered to me, “There, there, little seed. Now, you can become a flower.”

At this, my little roots, free of the choking grasp of the weeds, began to set themselves deep in the comfort of the new soil.

The next day, the Son came out with His Father, and the two marveled at the beauty of the field which had become full of blooming flowers. They admired the beauty of each flower and continued to walk towards me.

The Father said: “My, how this little flower has grown. She is most beautiful, my Son.”

The Son replied: “She is indeed, dear Father. She was one of the last ones to receive new soil, and quite a bit of my blood spilled out upon her soil, and because of this, she has grown up strong. I cleaned her dirty leaves and breathed life on her once again, and immediately she began to bloom.

Father and Son marveled at my beauty, and I, the littlest flower, basked in the loving embrace of their penetrating gaze.

No, I am not stifled by the weeds any longer, I am a blooming lily, pure and white like my Father, purchased by the blood of the Son.

And so, I have come to discover this simple truth: that my soul, a little seed planted by my Abba, blooms most fully in the light of His Perfect Love.