“Finally, brothers, . . . whatever is lovely, . . . if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”
Philippians 4:8 ESV.
I didn’t realize until the last flower shriveled, and the vase put away how the lovely flowers surrounding my mother encouraged her and lifted her spirits during the most challenging season of her life.
When my mother was diagnosed with brain cancer, we gave up our hopes of celebrating her 90th birthday. Her doctor told me she probably wouldn’t make it to Thanksgiving, let alone her birthday the following July.
But God had different plans. Ten and a half months after the diagnosis that had threatened to take her life in a few weeks, Mom made it to the 90-year milestone. Mom was in the later stages of cancer by then, so we kept the celebration simple – a special meal and cake with three daughters, a son, and a son-in-law. And lots of cards and flowers.
Her small apartment was filled with flowers she had received as gifts. Lavender roses, red carnations, blue hydrangeas, and pink Peruvian lilies set in vases on the table in front of the recliner where she spent her days. More flowers covered her kitchen counter.
The flowers lasted for weeks, but little by little, they began to wither and die. When I went in to care for her during the day, I weeded out the dying ones and rearrange the remainder. Finally only one bouquet remained and eventually one flower, which finally succumbed.
On the day the last flower died, she looked at me with innocent eyes and said, “Where are all my flowers?”
My mother would never have asked for anything for herself. But the cancer had affected her short-term memory, and she had lost the usual filters we have as adults. This is when I realized how much the beauty of the flowers ministered to her.
There was no explanation I could give her that she would understand or remember. So I went out and bought a bouquet of flowers which I placed on the table in front of her. She responded with a smile. I made sure that she had flowers within her view until the day she passed away weeks later.
Then it was my turn. As I walked to the front of the church at my mother’s funeral, I froze when I realized that I would have to stand next to her casket to give her eulogy. Then I focused on the flowers. The lovely shades of white, pink, and purple blossoms were certainly arrayed more beautifully than “ . . . Solomon in all his glory . . “ (Matthew 6:29 ESV). Their beauty gave me peace and calmed my spirit.
As I was leaving the catered picnic we had after the funeral, my sister called to me, “Uncle Dub texted me and wanted to make sure someone takes home the arrangement he sent.”
“I left it at the cemetery,” I said, “but I’ll pick it up on the way home. Tell him it is going home with me.”
I stopped at the cemetery and picked up my uncle’s arrangement and another one we had purchased from a florist. I glanced back as I left, pleased at how her grave looked with the spray of flowers that had been on her casket. When I got home, I breathed in the sweet scents of the delicate flowers and gazed at their beauty. I was so thankful for the nudge from my uncle to bring the flowers home.
I spread the flowers out on my dining room table and pulled each stem out of the green floral foam. Then I arranged them into separate bouquets and put them in vases. Then I added the big purple ribbons from the florist to the largest bouquet and placed it on the table in my front entranceway. The smaller bouquets I brought back to my mother’s apartment building to give out to her friends.
The days following the funeral were stressful. We had a short period of time to clear out her apartment. So several of us were coming and going. Sorting and dividing her treasures, making trips to the thrift store and post office, and filling garbage bags. They were long demanding days. But each night as I went home, the beauty and aroma of the flowers that greeted me as I walked in the door, blessed me.
Finally, we finished the clean-out, and I looked at the few wilted flowers left from my beautiful bouquet. I felt like my mother had when her flowers were gone. “Where are my flowers?” I thought, “I’m still grieving; I’m not ready to be done with them.” So, I went out and bought myself a big bouquet of flowers. I kept a bouquet of fresh flowers on my table all through the winter and into the Spring. And I found many occasions to bless others with flowers as well.
It wasn’t until this experience that I realized how focusing on “whatever is lovely,” in this case, in the form of flowers, truly ministers to one’s soul.
As we are now in the season when flowers are blooming all around us, take the time to observe the delicate, fragrant blossoms, and let God minister to you through his lovely creation.
*Ministry of Flowers was first published on 6/12/21 by Nancy Lee as a guest post on Words from the Honeycomb. Used by permission.
