The Purpose of a Flower

“In many ways we are like the busy man who walks up to a precious flower and says, ‘What for God’s sake are you doing here?  Can’t you get busy some way?” and then finds himself unable to understand the flower’s response:  “I’m sorry, sir, but I am just here to be beautiful.”    

                                                                        Henri J.M. Nouwen    Creative Ministry

When my son is being slow I find myself so easily frustrated.  Sometimes it takes him forever to get out of the car or to decide that he’s done at the toilet.  The busy mom in me, who is always aware of the millions of other things that I need to get done that minute, is tempted to blurt out, “Josh, why can’t you go faster!?”

Life with Josh is never expeditiously productive.  Josh doesn’t think very quickly.  His body doesn’t decide to do things very easily.  Communication with Josh is like being at a coffee shop with intermittent wi-fi. 

Usually, at the zenith of my impatience, I find that God gets my attention.  He often plants a question in my mind like, “Why do you need Josh to be more effective and efficient?”   I am guessing that it has more to do with how I feel about myself and about my life than a true assessment of what my son is able to do in that moment.

I also begin to realize that my son was not created to be fast.  Josh will never be a resident in the realm of high productivity or immediate transformation.  

Josh is here on this planet to be a parable about a different way.  His purpose is to make people slow down, even to stop for a bit.  His impact will be on those who are willing to pause and rethink our assumptions about how things have to be.

The other day Josh walked out of the house loudly munching on a zucchini like it was an apple.  I had a knee-jerk response to rebuke him.  “No, Josh, we don’t eat uncooked zucchinis!”

One of my girls asked, “Why not, Mom?”

You know what?  I did not have an answer.  Yes, it was unwashed but that isn’t the biggest deal in the world.  Why can’t you eat a raw zucchini if you want to?  I have eaten them diced into salads before.  There is nothing inherent in a zucchini that necessitates cooking.  If my child is happy to eat a vegetable, without my forcing him to, why would I stop him?

“Well . . .  go ahead, Josh.” 

I put my unemptied grocery bag and armful of jackets down and sat on the bench in front of my house and watched him eat the whole zucchini with great gusto like it was a sweet, juicy peach.  Upon finishing, stems and all, he looked very satisfied and amused.  He started clapping and humming, choosing this moment to have a little celebration.  Watching Josh quieted my spirit.  I smiled, knowing that Josh had been placed in my life just to be beautiful. 

Lemon Tree

I have a love/hate relationship with the lemon tree in my backyard.  Years ago, when we first moved into our house, my sister bought me a miniature lemon tree in a planter at Home Depot as a housewarming gift.  I was very excited because I live in a part of the county where citrus trees grow quite well.  When you go walking around our neighborhood, you will walk past many, many fragrant and beautiful trees full of lemons, limes, and other citrus fruits.

I planted this tree, fertilized it and watered it regularly.  I can see it from my kitchen window so I often looked at it and looked forward to never buying lemons again.

Alas, it refused to produce fruit.  In the past 6 years of having this tree, it has only produced around 5 lemons.  And these lemons were dry and not very juicy!  I read up on the care and feeding of lemon trees.  I bought more fertilizer.  I even talked to the thing.  Still no fruit.

I began to resent this tree.  Why are you taking up my time and energy?  I wanted you to be productive, to save me some money over time.  I even thought I would be able to share of your abundance with my friends and neighbors but no!  This year, it looked like it was going to be another no-fuit year.  I thought about how Jesus cursed the fig tree for not having fruit.  I thought about doing the same.  Or at least getting rid of it and trying again with another type of citrus.

One day, I looked out my window and this is what I saw.  The tree offered me this one ripe lemon like a mocking gift or, perhaps, as a peace offering.

I've been thinking about this lemon and what it might represent.  Like most things of mystery in my life,  it made me think of my son.  He is the other thing that I spend so much energy nurturing, hoping for good fruit.  And in some ways, he is a "fruitful vine".  He produces laughs and smiles and happy moments aplenty.  He adds to our family in and our community in ways that are difficult to quantify.  However, in some ways, he leaves me waiting for the fruit that I hope for and expect.  The normal ways that we expect a child to be productive, in terms of educations, learned skills and capabilities are slow in coming for Josh.  It has taken Josh 6 years of public education to be able to spell his first name.  Like my lemon tree, it takes Josh much, much more time to do what he's supposed to do.

Ultimately, I don't have to accept that from my backyard lemon tree.  At some point, it may be time to decide that this tree needs to produce or else.  However, although it hasn't given me many lemons, it has given me a picture of growth that is slow and surprising. It has been a parable to me, instructing me in the mysterious and uncontrollable ways of growth.  You can't make growth happen.  You can just be a part of it and see what you are given.