Angel gifts come on tiptoe, carrying whispered breezes of His love.
I let the colors seep in and over me that late spring, like rivulets of cool water to my parched soul. Rainbows of tulips, cheery-faced pansies, geranium glory and crisp white petunias blooming here, there, everywhere...
I especially loved the new Easter egg-colored pastel containers across the way on one neighbor’s porch steps – painted tin oblongs of lemon yellow, soft blue – overflowing there in happy flower profusion. I watched her pin-striped petunias dancing on the breeze, like little French maidens doing the can can, billowy dresses flouncing jauntily in the air… until…
Oh, how a more-than-usual wish welled up inside me!
More than ever before…I felt myself yearning to look out my window and see a burst of color hanging there on my porch. A potted plant or two. A few pink and white and purple petunias to poke in and out between the drab bushes that line my small lawn area.
Maybe because it had been a long winter… I was still getting back to strength from a severely broken leg… but waiting a month for my next paycheck seemed interminable.
Lord, I wish…I began…then sighed and let that wish blow silently outward, like feather-wisps of thistle up into the sky…
I can wait, I told myself. It’s just…flowers.
Wouldn’t it be something to look out and just find them here, a thought tingled, a whisper so soft, I barely heard. Mmm… yes.
You never know…
I smiled at that thought. Right.
I didn’t tell anyone about this crazy flower longing… sort of determined not to. Until one late afternoon break at work, when I ran into Gayle who had once been in my small home group from church. As one, we started oohing and ah-ing about the stunning riotous rhododendron blooms outside the break area windows, when I felt those words slip out… casually…like pebbles into a stream. “I sound nuts, don’t I?” I laughed.
“No, I know just what you mean,” she smiled.
It had been a long day on my feet, and I could feel myself limping slightly as I walked from the office to my car an hour or so later. Home and putting up my leg sounded good. As I pulled my car in my driveway, I thought I spotted a splotch of color on my porch step off to the right. Must be the sun in my eyes, I thought mildly… straining to get a better look.
Noooo…I was sure that was a pastel green container I could see… and magenta and white and lavender petunias waving at me on the breeze, reminding me of white handkerchiefs waving … as I stepped from the car. A pretty illustration from a charming English picture book I love came to mind… A young 1940’s bride standing in her garden by a low stone wall, waving her white hankie as her husband leaves for war… gorgeous hollyhocks and roses all around her…
“You have flowers!” my neighbor’s husband sang out cheerily from across the way at the gazebo, where he was doing some mending.
I grinned and waved. “Yes, I see!” I called back, wonder in my throat.
Slowly, I walked up the steps then, bent down to the bright planter waiting there. No note. I looked around… Gayle couldn’t possibly have had time to run to a store and get over to my house after work – could she?
Nah… I shook my head. It was impossible. We’d both left about the same time.
Yet… no one else had known. Or – had a reason to bless me this way.
I knew my closest friends — who very well might plan such a delight – had both left for Ireland with their elderly mom a few days before. Maybe… my neighbors? They’d been so nice during my leg recuperation…
I called a couple of them…wanting to give thanks if they had. But both denied it. Convincingly. I felt sort of embarrassed, having asked.
But if not them… then… who?
I knew… came a gentle whisper, once more.
This time, as I listened, tears pooled my eyes.
Lord… that you care about even this… I choked, silently.
I lifted my heaven-sent planter, watching the flowers turning their skirts to the breeze, like my heart to His Spirit.
My child… I am always thinking of you…
…And as I write this, He reminds me… He is always thinking of you, too…
I’ve pondered the who’s and the how’s of that moment from time to time. But I still don’t know who His delivery angel was that day.
Sometimes I send my angels unawares, I feel Him smiling down on me now.
Mmm… Yes...a spring bouquet sent out of the blue that ever reminds me…
Not one of our dreams is too small…
Not one of our tears unnoticed…
Not one of our cares left untended…
in the garden of our Shepherd’s Heart.
© Pam Depoyan
How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.
They cannot be numbered!
Have you ever had an unexplained gift “appear at your door?”
Something anonymous…but His certain signature all over it? I’d love to hear about it…