He Handed Me a Daffodil

I wanted answers.

Instead of answers, He handed me a daffodil.

Angry.

What was I supposed to do with His silence and a daffodil?

Eventually, I came to see.

The simple yet profound beauty of a flower feels perfect to me. My mind is rendered silent. The only response is awe.

And when the questions rose again and sent my mind spinning, He sent me to the trees.

Though they are all different, somehow each and every one feels perfect to me. There is nothing for my mind to question. It can only find beauty.

Then, I began to feel.

My lungs expand to receive and release the breath. There is no need to hold tightly. No need to sort anything out.

And there, I came to know.

I see Father God in the majesty, strength, and covering of the trees. I hear Holy Spirit in the wind. And I feel Jesus on my skin as it warms in the sun.

I ask Him for answers.

And still, He hands me the flower.

And it feels perfect to me.