The Wildflower: A life of Resilience

 If we take the time to appreciate nature’s quiet perseverance, we not only uncover profound wisdom but also develop a deeper, more poetic connection to human life.

Spring is just around the corner, and after a long, harsh winter, I eagerly anticipate the return of nature’s vibrant colours. In a world that often feels shrouded in darkness and cruelty, the arrival of spring brings a renewed sense of peace and hope—a powerful reminder of life’s resilience.

As the serene ecosystem awakens from its winter slumber, the landscape here in New Brunswick will soon be blooming with vibrant patches of hardy wildflowers, highlighted by our stunning provincial flower, the purple violet. These delicate blooms can transform even the most ordinary hiking trails, meandering along riverbanks and through meadows, into sacred and inspiring spaces.

The wildflowers start small and uncertain, swaying in the breeze, fragile and unsure of their ability to withstand the world around them. Every storm feels like a serious threat, with heavy rain, strong winds, and late frosts all seeming capable of wiping out their delicate existence.

And yet, despite these challenges, the storms eventually pass, as they always do, and the violets and other wildflower species continue to thrive. The wind becomes their constant companion, teaching them invaluable lessons: to bend without breaking, to weather each season with resilience and adaptability, and to bloom in unexpected places.

In many ways, we resemble wildflowers. We grow wherever life places us—often without choice or preparation—and sometimes in the most uncomfortable and uncertain conditions. We start small, learning to stand firm in a world that shifts beneath our feet. We weather storms we fear will break us, only to realize later that those storms have strengthened our stems for the journey ahead.

Reflecting on life through the lens of the wildflower's simplicity, I see parallels with my own journey. Wildflowers don't fret about how long it takes to bloom, nor do they compare their growth to that of others. They turn toward the sun, open themselves fully, and trust the process. Each wildflower exists exactly as it was meant to be, growing at its own pace and in its own way. When the time comes, they release their seeds, ensuring the patch continues to expand as spring arrives each year.  

In 2004, much like the wildflowers opening to the warm embrace of the morning sun, I turned my life toward the Son of God, opened my heart like petals, and basked in His light. He nourished my soul and planted a new seed within me, one that allowed me to flourish beyond the constraints of my past and embrace the fullness of life's possibilities.

Looking back, I can see how God has guided me through various seasons of change—some bright and joyful, others dark and challenging. Each experience has played a vital role in my blooming process. Each season carried its own unique purpose, and by fully embracing them, I’ve grown and evolved in ways I could never have imagined.

Just as wildflowers survive and continue to thrive through the changing seasons, our spiritual journey is shaped by the seasons of life. Every trial and challenge is a moment where God’s hand gently guides us, preparing us for the next step in our growth. Sometimes the process is messy. Sometimes it feels slow. However, every season is a part of human life.

Until our time here on Earth is over and we transition into God’s heavenly garden, may we continue to embrace each season with an open heart, trusting that, like the wildflowers, we are rooted in faith and hope. May our lives radiate beauty, no matter how difficult the journey may seem. And may we always strive to be a beacon of light for others, sowing the same seeds of love, resilience, and grace that God has so freely given us.

Have a blessed Easter. 

The Tree of Life

Since I’ve retired, I start most mornings sitting in my living room, sipping coffee, taking in the peacefulness of the day. It’s a refuge of sorts, where I can relax and let my mind wander.

On one particular day, recently, I became fixated by an old cherry tree, which sits outside my living room’s picture window. I thought about how it had survived the many intense storms and diseases over the years, and how, because of its deep roots and my husband’s intervention, it still stands healthy and strong (at its core).

Right now—during the winter months—the cherry tree doesn’t have the lush greenery hiding its imperfections, leaving us with a lifeless and barren impression. Yet, there’s still a mysterious beauty about it, because in reality, it may be leafless, but it isn't lifeless. It’s patiently waiting for spring, so it can burst forth into bloom again. 

It reminds me of times when I felt spiritually dormant, when I felt weighed down by the burden of an imperfect world.

Before I accepted the redemptive nature of God’s grace, there was hollowness in my spirit. I had built up so much inner turmoil, from a barrage of unexpected circumstances, my spirit was, basically, on life support. I felt unworthy, unloved, and far away from God.

But looking back over my life, I can see where God's hand of intervention not only had reached in to help endure the brokenness, but also the times where His pruning had helped shed the lifeless things to give energy to the new. And although I still fall dormant from time to time, my faith doesn’t allow me to linger there.

If we live long enough, we will all pass through wintery, barren seasons. And some will be much harsher than others. Perhaps you are passing through one of those seasons right now. If so, please don’t lose hope. Keep your roots deeply planted in the soil of God’s love. And even though you may be forever changed by this season you find yourself in, there will come a time of blooming again. You will survive this storm that life has blown your way, bringing with it the restoration of new life and new hope. Because—even in incidences where the darkness has masked the comprehension of His presence—God will never forsake us.

With Easter comes the onset of spring. It’s a season of new life, both spiritually and in nature.

The cherry tree analogy shows us the awakening of a tree, of how, each spring, it goes from a barren season of fruitlessness into a blooming and fruit-bearing one. It’s a beautiful transformation shown to us by God, through nature, that even though the tree was leafless; it wasn’t lifeless.

For us as believers, Easter is a time where we enter into the season of Lent. It's a time where we are reminded that Christ transformed the cross, from a symbol of death into the tree of life, and through His transformation, we celebrate an awakening of the soul; a time of reassurance that, upon His return, there will be a season of continuous blooming.