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Maurice Reilly

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Maurice Reilly

September 14, 2025 9:16 pm

The Prostrate Poppy The accidentally over watered poppy that had sprung up in our driveway was no match for the following night’s windstorm. The whole plant had blown over. “What a shame,” I thou... View MoreThe Prostrate Poppy The accidentally over watered poppy that had sprung up in our driveway was no match for the following night’s windstorm. The whole plant had blown over. “What a shame,” I thought as lugged groceries to the house, as I’d been looking forward to seeing it bloom. “Oh, well. I’ll pull it up and throw it into the burn pile tomorrow.” But the next day I was in for a surprise. The poppy had not wilted, shriveled up, or died as I had expected, but was instead alive, vibrant, and was, even while laying on the ground, blooming-and not just with one bloom, but THREE full, lush, spectacular flowers! Delighted, I snapped a photo to send to my girls, then felt a familiar nudging at my heart. “Uh, oh,” I rather cringed. “The Lord must have a lesson for me here.” And oh, He did. Admittedly, it took me a bit to share it, as it wasn’t exactly an easy lesson. Like this poppy, I may be in a harsh and rocky place right now, exposed to extreme elements, and seemingly alone. This place may not be where I wanted to be, where I’d ever dreamed I’d be, but nevertheless here I am planted, exactly as God has planned it from before the foundation of the world. I may be flat on my back right now. It may be that my roots were too shallow, that the supports I relied upon were inadequate, or that the storm unleashed was impossible for anyone to withstand, let alone me. But nevertheless here I am on the ground with dirt on my forehead and gravel in my teeth, and I am right where I need to be to accomplish His will at this moment. Surely, I reason, I shall be upright again soon. Surely this is but a brief season, and I shall yet be tall, stately, respected, and normal again like others in normal, beautiful, well tended gardens, rather than being relegated to an object of pity, worth nothing more than to be thrown into the burn pile of disappointment and unmet expectations. Nevertheless, here I am, still in the driveway, sill laid low, still with my face down in the gravel. If I am never upright or well regarded again, what of it? This life, this whole universe is not about me, my comfort, my reputation, or my glory. And though I am here, finite and weak, sometimes flailing, and sometimes very foolish, I am yet still alive. I still have breath. My mission and my purpose and my reason for existence have not changed. I am, no matter what has happened, what is happening around me, or what anyone else around me is doing or not doing, still to love the Lord, to trust Him, to obey Him, to praise Him, to find my utmost delight and satisfaction and beauty and joy in Him. When I do these things, when I truly, truly do these things, I can be used by Him. I can bloom. And when I bloom in these seemingly impossible conditions, these seemingly impossible blossoms show the world that there is a God who lives, who loves, who strengthens, who delights in showing mercy and grace, who performs what He promises, and who is worthy of all honor, glory, and praise. And He alone is worth it all. So ends the story of the prostrate poppy that bloomed despite its circumstances in my driveway. If you’re curious, I made sure to save its seeds for next year. I just thought I’d share its small story in the hope that it would encourage you a wee bit. No matter where you are or what your circumstances, there is a God who loves you more dearly than you can ever imagine, and who can give you peace, strength, joy, and beauty right where you are if you but turn to Him. And dear one, please, please turn to Him. Have a very blessed evening full of peace and joy and hope

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