Salt Leaven and Light

It’s not often that my world comes to a complete standstill at the sight of yellow flowers.

However, on this particular Wednesday, it did.

With dishes piled high in the sink, and the aroma of our evening meal still in the air, I was in the middle of cleaning the kitchen when the doorbell rang.

Ding! Dong!

Wiping my hands on my apron, I made my way to the front door and peered out the peephole.

The sight of soft yellow flower petals startled me.

“Who in the world is bringing me flowers?” I wondered aloud, unlocking the door and opening it with anticipation.

Standing on the porch was a friend I hadn’t talked to in months, a young mom with a large family and a very busy schedule.

“Hey there!” she said nonchalantly, “I haven’t seen you in a while so I thought I’d stop by and say hi.”

“Really?” I asked, feeling a bit bewildered, “and you brought me flowers, too?” I smiled broadly as she nodded and handed me the vase of “yellow sunshine”.

“Thank you!” I gushed, still trying to make sense of this pleasant surprise. “Would you like to come in and visit for a few minutes?” I asked, certain that she would say no.

After all, she had a houseful of children at home who were likely missing her terribly.

“Sure,” she said without hesitation.

“Oh, wonderful!” I replied, grateful for this unexpected opportunity to visit with a friend.

Making our way into the living room, I set the vase of flowers on the coffee table, and we settled in on the couch.

The conversation was vague at first.

“How are you?”

“How is your family?”

“How’s life treating you?”

But before long we found ourselves talking about “real” issues:

school,

challenges with our children,

relationship difficulties with friends and family,

our fears,

our faith in God,

—you know, the issues of which life is made.

She talked and I listened.

Then I talked and she listened.

Who knew that talking with someone who cared was exactly what I needed in that moment?

Somehow, she did.

“What made you come over to my house tonight,” I finally asked, genuinely desiring to know the reason for her unselfish act. “I mean, you’re a busy mom, and you just spent two hours in my home. Why? What made you do it?”

She looked at me with wide eyes.

“Well, last week you kept coming to mind,” she said thoughtfully. “I kept thinking, ‘I haven’t seen Carri in a while. I should stop by for a visit,‘ but I kept pushing the thought from my mind.

Then today, the thought came again, only more powerfully this time. It said, ‘Leave your kids with your husband, buy Carri some flowers, and go visit her.’

The prompting was so strong that I couldn’t ignore it this time.

I explained the situation to my husband and asked if he would watch the children.

Then I bought some flowers at the store, and here I am.”

She paused, looking a bit uncomfortable, and then continued, “To be honest, it felt awkward standing on your doorstep with flowers. I had no idea what I was going to say to you when you opened the door. I just knew that I needed to come to your house with flowers.”

She stopped talking and looked at me expectantly.

“Did you know that flowers are my absolute favorite thing to receive from someone? I asked, my voice soft and low.

“No,” she said, looking surprised.

“Well, they are,” I said with a grateful smile.

Feeling emotional, I thought about the power of promptings–-the blessings that come from listening to and heeding the inner voice we each have inside

I reflected on a time several months earlier when I had followed through with an impression to give yellow flowers to a stranger in a parking lot, and how much that experience affected me.

Now, I was the recipient of such an act.

As the evening wore on, my friend and I concluded our heartfelt discussion with a hug—the kind of hug that occurs when true connection has taken place between two individuals.

My friend had ministered to me in a bold way, and I was so grateful.

She reminded me what it means to be a true disciple of Christ, for she ministered as Christ did when He was on the earth—reaching out to the one, acting on inspiration, nurturing authentic friendships.

It’s been said that the best evidence of our adoration of Jesus is our emulation of Him.

That night, my friend’s adoration of Jesus shone through, for she emulated Him well as she reached out to me.

Life can be chaotic, but when we leave margin in our lives, we open the way to receive guidance from that inner voice—inspiration from a higher power that will lead us to bless the lives of those around us in simple yet profound ways.

We have but to listen to and act upon those promptings.

The world is in need of more evidence of our adoration of Jesus.

The yellow flowers are optional.