Wildflower Writes

Photo by  Derek Story  on  Unsplash Living in an area crisscrossed by railroad tracks, I hear train horns day and night. The long, mournful wail makes me smile, reminding me that there are people and things on their way to the far reaches of the continent, and they happen to be passing close by. Even though I’m settled in my cozy home or office, the trains are forever moving. Someone is traveling to a new destination for a fresh start, or to spend time with loved ones. Someone’s special order is on its way to surprise and delight, and it has to go through my city to get there. I’ve been on the other side, too. I’ve traveled by train, watching small towns zip by the windows, following rivers and seeing mountains approach in the distance. I’ve drifted off to the steady click-clack, click-clack of the wheels on the tracks. I’ve experienced the anticipation of the journey and arriving at my destination. Kay Warren writes in the book, Choose Joy , that “life is much more l...

It's Good Friday. I've always struggled with that title. When do we say a day is good when someone dies? I know the answer. I know Good Friday marks the day Jesus died on the cross, taking on the sins of the world to die with Him. But right now I'm considering the moment he washes the feet of his betrayer. The time he spends praying in agony, anticipating the torture he will endure. His best friends deserting Him. Being accused of countless lies, and choosing to remain silent. The angry faces of men and women shouting "Crucify!" knowing it was for these souls He would choose to die. The agonizing scourging before being mocked and spit upon by soldiers. The rough wood on His torn flesh as he struggles to carry His cross uphill. Being placed on display, naked, before His own mother. Offering hope to a thief even as He struggles to breathe. Finally, completing the work He came to earth to do and breathing His last. Could anything but supernatural love spur this...

To me, it was an epiphany.  "No one expects you to do this alone." "Really?" I thought.  I had always thought I was expected to just handle everything that came my way.  Even when I felt overwhelmed to the point of tears, or completely alone in my struggle, I just didn't know that it was okay to share the load.  What a relief!  I wasn't a failure.  I wasn't inadequate.  I was human.  In fact, my counselor went on to elaborate, God actually puts people in our lives to love, support, encourage, and challenge us.  In order to build relationships, I had to take down a formidable foe.  Pride.  I had to take off the smiley mask that tried to communicate well-being and self-reliance.  I had to admit I wasn't as strong or independent as I thought I was.  I had to admit I actually needed other people in my life. No one expects you to reach your goals alone. You need people in your life who will encourage you and believe in ...

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...

Five hundred children were packed into the elementary school gymnasium. It was assembly time. I watched little faces, some edged with pre-teen boredom, others gleaming with unmerited enthusiasm.. Some kids obviously took pride in their appearance, others dressed for comfort. Some were part of a cute little clique, others tended to drift alone. Some friends seemed unusual combinations- the almost 6-foot-tall fifth grader and his buddy, who came up a little higher than his elbow. Another was tall solid girl with long natural wavy hair and glasses, chatting happily with a petite blonde with a ponytail and name brand clothes. As I scanned the faces, all shapes, colors, and sizes, I wondered what life was like for them. Surely some are happy-go-lucky, enjoying school, and living in a safe, loving home. Others may give that appearance but really struggle with abuse, self-doubt, or poverty. They each had different reactions to receiving awards. Some were obviously purely excited for the recog...

Where can you be yourself? Is that a silly question? Isn’t it healthy to always be yourself? At work, I am not myself. I have to wear dress-up clothes and make-up to look professional. I have to say “good morning!” whether I believe it’s a good morning or not. I have to smile and nod even when someone asks me to do something I don’t want to do or don’t feel is my job to do. I have to bite my tongue when someone at the corporate level says or does something utterly ridiculous. When I say I have to do something, I mean I have to do it in order to keep my job, which happens to be a priority to me at the moment. I do believe everything is a choice in life. At church, I am more myself. I still try to make myself presentable. I feel I can be more sincere in my greetings, because I care more about the people there. I can be a little more honest about my desire or ability to take on new projects, although I hate to say no to anybody. I do struggle to let people know my true feelings… At club, ...