seeing the purple petunias

Elijah and I sat on the front porch. The weather was cooler than a typical June day, and yet despite the heavy clouds and bursts of wind we were comfortable. He rested on my lap, his soon to be four year old head nestled into my shoulder.

We just sat.

I asked him what he was thinking about and after glancing around the porch he quickly replied  -- about purple flowers, momma. There was a huge pot of deep purple petunias sitting by the entry.  Anything else, Elijah? I asked. He  sighed, and looked around again and simply said -- oh, and about God, momma.

I told him thinking about God was a really good thing and he quickly told me he knew that.

We sat there -- him thinking about purple flowers and God -- and me wondering about life and summer and words. I was mulling over how we define stresses -- I hear it so much -- I'm stressed about this or stressed about that -- and yet, for myself, I wonder if what I'm calling stress should really be called stress.

You know, like getting stressed because I have to do the dishes. Or clean. Or run the kids to ballet. Or mow the lawn. Or plan homeschool curriculum. Or write a post by a deadline. Or get the car washed. Or take those pictures. Or fold the laundry I'm behind on.

I think I might have been calling blessings stresses. And not seeing the beauty of the purple petunias right in front of my face.  If I had been Elijah I probably would have said -- I see weeds in the flower garden -- completely missing the beauty of the petunias right in front of me.  Sigh.

I'm convicted to think before I refer to items as stress. I remember years ago, when we lived in San Diego {and yes, we moved back to the snowy land of Minnesota} being in a Bible Study with some lovely and wonderful ladies. I was this young mother, and we were going through financial stress -- real hardship -- and we were 2000+ miles from friends and family. After I poured my heart out in a prayer request the next lady was up to share. I can still remember sitting there, with my tear-stained face, as she proceeded to lament about how stressed she was in prepping for her trip to Paris in two weeks, and how she needed so much prayer.

Only seeing the weeds.

It stuck with me. That realization of keeping one's eyes open and not allowing the blessings in life to become the stresses in life. And to be really really careful about what I ask for in a time of prayer requests.

Oh, to be like Elijah. To see the world for all it's beauty. To be content to rest on a patio chair on a June afternoon and think about purple flowers and God.

Let me learn from him.

And see the purple petunias first.

{I've linked with what is on your heart.}