concrete flowersBLOOM WHERE YOU ARE PLANTED

“And don’t be wishing you were someplace else or with someone else. Where you are right now is God’s place for you. Live and obey and love and believe right there” (1Cor 7:17, TM)

 

There are times when I wished I was somebody else, more beautiful, taller, fairer…

There are other times when I wished I lived in a beautiful country with green parks and flowers…

There are times when I wished I had the gift to sing or dance or talk like an angel…

Sometimes work is just a headache and the office colleagues all the wrong people…

There are times when married, I wish to be single and free…

There are other times when single, I wish to be married, at any cost, a dream wedding to a stranger…

Often I wish I have more money, more friends, more opportunities to travel, get lost, in the world…

Sometimes I wish to be young again, no wrinkles, no diabetes, no need for hearing aid…

 

What do I do with this basket full of impossible dreams and fading wishes?

All I have is a long boring today that nobody wants, even if for free…

New questions come to the surface…

Even if nothing changes…Can I find favor with God right here, right now?

Is it really true that going away to a fantasy land will make me the happiest in the world?

 

The Wonderful Counselor whispers a strange, but fresh word to me:

Stop looking around…look up and see Him who holds your breath…you are not too far, you are not too deep…you may be living in the desert, in between two rocks, in places nobody wants to visit, places absent from a decent map…but still… this is God’s earth, and you are here right now, for such a time as this…

If you are a wind, then blow…

If you are a rainbow, then shine…

If you are cricket, then jump…

If you are a flower, then bloom…now…in this very spot…do not wait for another day…do not wait for the rain…do not wait for men to find you…bloom where your roots have found favor with the ground…for the pleasure of the Holy Gardner alone…for He alone is worthy of all praise, beauty and lonely labor of love…

3 comments on “

  1. Cheri says:

    A beautiful and wonderful word my friend. After moving to Warri, I so missed the beauty of America. I missed the clean streets, I missed the beautiful architectural wonders, the manicured lawns, the malls and restaurants…..all had gradually become a part of life from birth . Giving all of those unnecessary things up in favor of doing God’s will, I found beauty there in the most amazing ways. I will never forget the first time a Nigerian brother hugged me. I had been without a hug from the Nigerian Body of Christ for almost 2 years. Being from Texas, the land of HUGs, , I never realized how much human touch means until I had none from strangers and friends for so long. That hug was like a gift from heaven for me. I purposed that no matter where God planted me on this earth, I would never stopped touching and hugging the people of His creation. I found that I had a choice to die or thrive amidst hardship and suffering. We chose to THRIVE , and thrive we did. WE learned so much about ourselves and our God. We learned that no matter where He plants us, He intends for us to be fruitful and THRIVE, and it is He who gives us the power to do so. The beauty of a land so far and so different from America began to stand out to me, and I began to notice the gifts from my Abba Father all around me. I felt very rich indeed, and the reality of where my treasure is has never left me. I find my complete fulfillment In Christ alone. Much Love to you my friend.
    Cheri

    • Silvia Leigh says:

      Dear Cheri, So glad to find you here…
      If you look closer, then you find that many of the poem’s words are from your ‘Nigerian’ diary…I just re-arranged them a little…Thank you for being my friend…Love in Christ alone, Lia.

  2. Jemine Leigh Oakes says:

    Wow… this is so beautiful. I’ll go ahead and insert “Selah” at the end for my own pleasure for indeed this makes me want to find a corner and have a moment with Jesus. The One that gave me today. I’m grateful.

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