I was taking a walk back in the summer and, sure that I was alone, was nattering away to God. There was a pre-storm feel to the moment. The air seemed electrified and the light was phenomenal. As I walked I was enjoying the look of little heads on meadow grasses, the subtle blue and red tinges barely noticeable at first glance and the feel of their textures in my hand. Some coarse, some soft, some fine. A particular favourite grass has heads that remind me of the shapes of firework explosions. And this exquisite mood I get before a storm is an explosion of sensations. I feel at once ecstatic and melancholic. It is a heightened moment and a bitter sweet moment that is somehow quite delicious. I feel undeniably alive, like I just dived into an ice cold wave.
I was musing about how nice it would be to have some-one to share this moment with, a soul mate, I suppose. And then it struck me that I only ever have these moments when I am alone. This moment is uniquely personal, a private moment like no other. I get this feeling when this mood comes upon me that only now am I truly myself. 'Typical', I think, 'the moment and feeling I most want to share out of all the moments and It is impossible'. Even if I had a soul-mate they would never get this, never get me in my purest essence. (Then, as I had never walked these fields before, I found a little gap in the hedge. Curious, I decided to see what was through the gap and was there any kind of a path there. What I saw (you'll have to bear in mind my particular frame of mind here) was nothing out of the ordinary and yet it staggered me.
There was a field of corn, still green, filling my vision and in the centre of this field, this field with no footpath, where no-one usually walked, was a lone poppy. Its colour was intense. The vivid blood red petals against the green corn made it leap out immediately and I was overwhelmed by the beauty of this little flower, which, it seemed, God had placed there just for me. And God had timed it to perfection. I heard, emerging out of all the babbling I had been doing the still, strong compassionate voice I have come to love. He doesn't often speak this way to me so when he does I know to listen.
I was struck by the thought that had I not gone through this gap that this poppy could have lived its short life of fierce beauty, unseen by human eyes, and to what avail? What use is beauty if it is unseen? Beauty is to be enjoyed, to be shared. I wrote the words God gave me into a poetic form. I'll share them here;
And you say to me,
as the rain falls on this page,
"You are a Poppy,
In a field of corn,
A lone poppy whose days are soon gone,
Whose petals will fall"
I stand out for a while and die,
In a field where no-one but the maker goes,
I am seen,
By Him,
For his pleasure,
Only he will see fully,
this poppy,
as it radiates colour,
In a forgotten field
For me there is a resonance in this concept of unseen worth and beauty. I am not speaking of physical beauty. In a world where physical beauty is rewarded constantly with attention (both wanted and unwanted) those of us who see ourselves as unremarkable, un-noteworthy, often feel invisible. And this little poppy reminded me that true beauty is a substance of delight to our creator. That there is no such thing as unobserved beauty or worth. God takes his pleasure in us. That should be enough. Instead we dress up in our good deeds and designer rags and try and get noticed by our peers. Often all this effort is a complete waste and the rewards it brings are totally unsatisfying and, at times, counteractive. This little poppy was in a field surrounded by other plants. It is a plant among plants. There is a great sense in which, as believers, we are called to be in a church family, and to be brothers with the whole of humanity. Yet there is still a deeper sense in which every soul lives its whole life only to God. His delight is in you. He rejoices over you with singing (Zephaniah tells us). It is the hearts aim, the goal of the soul to commune with its creator, to take delight in him. Our life is a song sung back to the God who sings over us.
Matthews gospel tells us that we are to pray to our Father who sees what is done in secret. Paul urges Christians in his letter to the Colossians
obey your earthly masters in everything; and do it, not only when their eye is on you and to curry their favour, but with sincerity of heart and reverence for the Lord~ Col 3:22
In other words we are living this life, ultimately for an audience of one. All else, is a "chasing after the wind" as Ecclesiastes puts it. There is this sense that all we do is done in secret. Secret motives, secret thoughts and secret deeds. But there are no secrets with our heavenly father, every action and thought is laid bare before the one to who all things are open. And he delights in us, like we delight in our children. In the end we will all stand before him and all other opinions will rapidly become an irrelevant defence.
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