Wildflower Writes

Photo by  Erda Estremera  on  Unsplash I heard a story today about a young pastor and his family who were planning a move to their new church two days before their first Sunday. It was an 8-hour drive. Everything was packed. The truck was rented. Then, chaos. The truck broke down before it even got to the house. They got it up and running, but it broke down again on the way. After a hotel stay and much discussion, it was decided the only option was to tow the moving truck and its trailer with the family car all the way to its destination. Unfortunately, they weren’t able to get to the church by Sunday morning. Everything that had been planned by their new congregation had to be rescheduled. All they could do was move forward and plan for the next week. You would think that working around canceled plans would be second nature to us by now, but it’s still disappointing when we plan on something and it falls through. Especially when it’s beyond our control. I’ve noti...

At one point in my life, I believed there was no fundamental difference between males and females, with the obvious physical exceptions. I was a 10-year-old feminist. I believed I could play football, excel in math, run fast, become president, and win a fist fight as well as any boy I knew. I rebelled against the idea that my passions and talents might be limited by people who made up arbitrary rules about which sports, activities or classes I could participate in. I still feel the hairs on the back of my neck bristle when people, especially children, are encouraged to behave in a particular way simply due to their gender. Let them play with whatever they want to, whether it’s trucks or dolls or blocks or crayons. Don’t let “boys be boys” and allow rude behavior or destruction. Don’t make girls “act like a lady” and prevent them from playing in dirt or running around. As I grew older, I began to see that there were some general differences between men and women. While I could play foo...

Yesterday, driving down the street to work, I didn’t notice all the stumps along the side of the road. I knew there was a lot of construction, and the trees had been cut down to widen the road. Their remains had been left, leveled to the ground, for months now. Today there was a big yellow excavator blocking half the street. It was making it’s way up one side of the street, apparently using an arrowhead shaped attachment to dig up the stumps of the trees that had once lined the street. The stumps, turned upside down with roots exposed, were huge, gnarly monstrosities aligned along the road. Sometimes I wish I could see people’s roots. What is keeping them upright? Where have they drawn their strength and vitality from? Did they have to struggle to get what they needed out of life? Do their roots run deep or stretch out wide? Some people are ashamed of their roots, even though they are the basis of who we are. Our ancestors, our parents, our friends, and our faith are all parts of who w...

Imagine being born without arms and without legs. You’d never be able to run or dance or play sports. You wouldn’t be able to hold someone’s hand, pet a dog, or hug a friend. People would either pity you or mock you. You would have every reason to feel angry and cheated by life. I saw a man today who faces this challenge. However, he has such a strong, compelling spirit, that after hearing him speak, you almost forget that he has physical limitations. His name is Nick Vujicic. The following is an excerpt from his web page, www.lifewithoutlimbs.org : “Due to the emotional struggles I had experienced with bullying, self-esteem and loneliness, God began to instill a passion of sharing my story and experiences to help others cope with whatever challenge they might have in their lives. Turning my struggles into something that would glorify God and bless others, I realized my purpose! The Lord was going to use me to encourage and inspire others to live to their fullest potential and ...

Dedicated to Karen Johnston The doctor said, “no kids” Your polio forbids You were ready to fight I was born, in the rite Of motherhood Under your guidance Words became sentence They said I was bright You taught me to write I was three Every question I asked I was then tasked To tell what I think “Look it up” with a wink An answer You gave me freedom To explore wisdom Friendships and the world Hopes slowly uncurled And life Your strength displayed You weren’t afraid To speak your mind To do what was kind And right You provided meals To talk of ordeals A place to unwind Home ever enshrined In my heart You gave the right to choose Present for all debuts Cheering at each game To everything you came My biggest fan As an adult I received The best gift achieved My mom as my friend To listen and commend And advise I admire your courage In living out wordage Literature and theatre Loving life as actor Of your story As I bid adieu Know I love you And truly thank you For all that you d...