Sunday, October 6, 2013

Week of Joy: Day 3


(The following is an epilogue to the story of the little hibiscus, posted during the Week of Love. If you have not already read it, please read it here before reading the concluding chapter below.)

Epilogue

One morning, the little hibiscus woke feeling entirely new and open inside. It only took a moment for her to realize what had happened: she had bloomed into her joy.

The old thoughts about her own beauty no longer occupied her mind. She understood now that how attractive she was had little to do with the Way of Love. And it was the Way that she longed for.

That first day, she asked the compassionate one to set her pot facing east, so that the morning Sun might gaze upon her as she basked in His light.



She rested deep in His peace and it was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She felt herself being transformed, deepened into the Way of Love.

She had no words to speak of what was happening, even to her compassionate friend. She was silent but joyful.

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In the evening of the next day, she returned to her usual west-facing window where once again she could look out upon the familiar garden and the small creatures who lived there. However, while the flowers and sparrows and squirrels were all still there, she was changed and she saw them with a new heart.

As she watched the Sun set behind the trees, she found herself gazing at Him in loving wonder. And He gazed back at her. They were happy.



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It was only a couple of days later that the little hibiscus awoke in the morning to find that her bloom had dropped in a neat little bundle at the foot of her pot. She was again but a simple green plant, without all of the glory of her fiery red petals.                                                                                                                                                



But she didn't mind. Not at all. For she now carried the Sun's love deep in her heart.

The little hibiscus knew that never again would she forget the Way, even through the long cloudy days of winter when her Beloved would appear absent.

She was now free to move through the rest of her life - and even through her death - in joy. And it was a joy that no one could take from her.


(Comments and contributions for the Week of Joy - or any of the holy pauses - are most welcome and may be e-mailed to me at findhope.roadrunner.com.)