Sunflowers in September

September has become a time of reflection for me. A month of seeking quiet away from the crowd... the noise... the busyness of the mundane. In this moment, I sit perched on my bed and my puppy, Iva, is asleep on the floor. No fan is spinning and no music is playing. I am alone in my home and the small noises of living life caused by footsteps and doors opening/closing are none right now. This type of quiet I long for because the grief of this month has become so daunting... so unmistakably loud... so penetrating to every fabric of my being. I am not always comfortable of the sound that grief makes in my soul. Sometimes it is terrifying to hear and I do not want to be alone in it. Other times, it is the sweetest music to my ears because it's melody matches the depth of emotion in my heart.

It is as simple as saying, "I miss my dad." And it is as complex as saying, "I miss my dad."

I was given a magnificent sunflower from a friend of mine whose color has radiated itself in my room this month. It has survived all month long so far without any shift in color or posture. This flower, a symbol of remembrance for me, which has led me to share with you a concept that began to build over this past year. I call this concept of remembrance a "sunflower moment". This is one of the best ways in which I can think to honor both my Heavenly Father and my late earthly father.

As children of God, we are called to remember. To remember what the Lord has done. To remember His faithful and devoted love. Grief has a way of causing us to remember... even when the pain of it is too excruciating. However, I have come to learn that if one courageously encounters the memories of a loved one (or anything lost), then there is the opportunity to find God in a whole new way in that memory. If you find God there, you can actually be launched into greater healing in the present.

Just like a sunflower follows the sun throughout the day, we too are called to follow the Son in every season. Grief for me has been the most difficult to follow Him. Mainly because I cannot follow in my own strength, religion, or acts of righteousness. What ignorantly sustained me in past seasons can no more hold and anchor me here. I have learned where I foolishly was "following" in my own strength and I called it good. However, grief changes the entire landscape of your heart and whatever is not formed and fashioned by the Cornerstone will crumble.

It is simply... just Him.

His source of love, nutrients, and affection continue to turn my face towards Him as He has carefully nurtured my heart throughout this time. He is the Vine and He has wrapped Himself ever so gently and fastly to me... even when I cannot wrap myself back to Him. His hold onto me is greater.

And so, in this season, when I begin to forget... He causes me to remember words and memories of my father who faithfully sowed into my heart the seed of the Gospel. I step into those memories where grief and joy live in tandem to one another. Here is where I find my Father in a whole new way.

From memories of sitting in my father's lap, walking on roads, and hours upon hours of conversations... to teaching me to hold a hammer, build a frame, lay a foundation, and to throw a ball... to the deeper things of learning the art of teaching, taking care of older generations, reflecting and studying, and staying faithful to preaching the Word of God-- all of these are just a few ways where I turn back the page and I find my Heavenly Father there with me. He was the One teaching, nurturing, strengthening, encouraging, and correcting me through my Daddio. Through remembrance, He now gets to show me where He was at and what He wants me to see/learn. This perhaps has been the most healing part of the journey.

A sunflower moment, healing in it's property, is when the glory of God showcases itself in our walk, turning our eyes back towards Him to faithfully spur us on to take one more step towards His Love.

"The Lord bless you and keep you; The Lord make His face shine upon you, and be gracious to you; The Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace." -Numbers 6:24-26

As I said before, it is simply... just Him.

By Grace,

Cortney Rae