A flower quickly fading

They say that young people believe they are invincible. They say kids think they will live forever and therefore have no fear of death. I don’t know if they’re right because I’ve met many a child that has asked questions that led me to believe they had a fear of death. Usually though, that fear has more to do with those they love dying than it does with themselves dying. So maybe ‘they’ are right.

Most of us live as though we have no fear of death. We go through each day, doing whatever it is that we do, without a thought in our heads that today might be our last.

There are those, though, that are so afraid of dying that it hinders their ability to live. They stay closeted at home, afraid of what might happen if they go out into the world. And there are those that seem to dare death to take them. They challenge it. They almost seem to try and get it to take them.

No matter how we look at death, we are all but one step away from it. Maybe it’s a big step, or maybe it’s a teeny tiny step but it’s still only one step. From the moment we are conceived…we are dying. That day is a guarantee. Once we have life…death will come. There is no getting around it. There is no shortchanging it. There is no stopping it.

It isn’t if we die but when we will die.

Scripture tells us…

What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. James 4:4 NIV

We are here only for a short time. There is a Christian song that likens our lives to a flower quickly fading.

How precious the rose is when it is but a rosebud. So tiny and wondrous. How we marvel over those little buds and take great pleasure in their appearance on the rose bush. How we enjoy seeing them open slowly, seeing the petals begin to unfold. Day by day, little by little, the rose bud blossoms into a flower. Then we smile to see the roses on the bush. Their scent is a lovely pleasure we need only to pass their way to enjoy.

But that isn’t the only joy we gain from them. We need not go close enough to smell them to take great joy in their existence. They brighten the yard they bloom in. They offer pleasure and a glimpse of happiness to all that glance their way. They are a smile on a dreary day. A nod of the head to a passing stranger. A laugh for the eyes to those that look upon them.

They are joy.

And should we go close enough to live within their presence we will see…something remarkable. The flower that smiled at us from a distance, that graced us with the pleasure of its aroma as we came close…holds wonders within its folds. Petals upon petals curl around each other, wrapped tightly, each one awaiting its turn to unfurl. The outer petals open wide, revealing the delicate inner petals, they wrap around the other petals, being the first fruits of the flower, opening wide to give beauty a chance to shine.

And as we look past the outer petals, we peer down into an ever unfurling world of beauty. Within the petals of the rose there lives something indescribable. It is the living example of the life that slowly unfolds and opens up, petal by petal, layer by layer. Once it was so tiny, so tightly closed, so delicate. Now it opens before our eyes, unfurling it’s petals before those that care to look. And still, deep within the rose, there is that tiny bud waiting to open. It is held there, deep within the petals, protected, cosseted, kept safe, until just the appointed moment when it, too, shall open in all its glory.

As we look down into that marvelous rose if we are very blessed we might catch a glimpse of the dew drops that have found a soft spot to reside. Tiny water droplets that have been drawn close to the wonders of the rose just as we have. They rest there, finding in the rose the place that gives them the life they will have, however short that life may be.

And as we peer into the rose we see up close the marvelous color. It is the blazing of a sunset at the end of a long day. Its colors spreading across the canvas of the sky for all to see. Breathtaking in its beauty. Stunning in its complexity. Majestic in its simplicity. The colors warm the eyes as the sun warms the skin on a warm, sunny, day.

Should we care to touch the rose as we peer into the richness of its beauty and marvel at the delicate nature of each petal…it is the very definition of softness. It is the smooth creaminess of a warm pudding on our tongue. It is the silky softness of a baby’s cheek under our finger.

As we run our finger over the marvelous sunset there for us to touch, as we feel the warmth of the sun in the velvet under our finger, we discover that it is delicate at our fingertips. It is what fragile feels like. It is…remarkable.

There for our enjoyment is a miracle in the making. Opening for us to see and touch, and…behold.

But the flower that slowly unfurled in all its glory…will quickly fade. It seems, as we watch it grow, that it will always be, or that it takes a long time for it to reach its peak, but in all that time…it was rushing every closer to the end of its days. It grew in beauty and just when it is at its peak it fades away. Petal by petal the wonder drops away, falling to the ground. It turns from the beauty of its splendid colors to the dark colors of a lifeless petal. It’s velvety softness gives way to the brittle crispness of death. Gone is the pliable petal that moved as silk beneath our finger and in its place is the destruction of death. Lost forever is the great wonder, the joy, that once graced our lives.

What seemed to take forever has faded before our eyes and has lost all sign of life. In its place is a flower that faded quickly even as we thought it would last a long time.

We are a flower quickly fading. Our life unfurls day by day in a headlong rush with death. No matter how long we live, whether we count our time on earth in minutes or decades, we will reach the day when the petals…the days…of our life turn brittle and are no more. We will fade as if we have never been.

But the memory of our days on earth will linger in those left behind just as the memory of the beautiful rose lingers in our memory. What are we doing with our lives while we are in the bright days? Whose life are we touching? Who are we drawing to us the way the rose drew the dewdrop and the way it drew us?

The rose lived so that it might, in all its splendid wonder, point its viewers toward its creator. There in the rosebud is the glory of something that had a master creator. We don’t look at a beautiful painting without thinking of the hand that painted it. There was a master designer behind the painting and there is a master designer behind the rose. In all its beauty it points to its creator as it unfolds, petal by petal. The color, the delicate nature, the velvety softness…all are the work of a mighty hand.

We are a flower quickly fading. Just as the rose bloomed and died living out its days as it was designed to do…we are here but for a moment and then gone. Our lives are witnessed by others. We may be here but for the space of a breath of air but that breath was counted by the Lord and it was planned as our allotted time. And in that allotted time we fulfill the purpose the Lord has for us.

For some of us we get many breaths. Our lives unfold before those that know us and we touch many more that will never know us. But we are a rose…a life…growing before the eyes of those that watch.

What do we do with our flower that quickly fades?