3 1/2 minute read
The other day I was out running and I passed by something beautiful.
Someone who lived in an apartment complex had taken their little outdoor area and decorated it with 14 (I counted) baskets and pots filled with unbelievably vibrant, eye-popping flowers.
Pink flowers, purples flowers, blue flowers, white flowers… all bursting from their containers, seated atop green stems and green leaves.
You couldn’t look at the apartment patio area without thinking about how pretty they all were and even how much visual joy those flowers gave to anyone who passed by.
I kept running, thinking about those flowers, and something struck me.
The apartment building I had passed has always seemed like “temporary housing” to me.
It’s the kind of place young professionals or small families move into so they can be close to a new job, live there for six months or a year, then get out of as soon as they can to land somewhere more permanent.
I recognized that apartment complex as such because in my 20s, I lived in a number of these, myself.
When I lived in those, I was constantly thinking, “This is only for a little while. I’ve got to get out… and get somewhere better, somewhere I can put down roots, somewhere permanent.”
As such, when I lived in those places, I (honestly) didn’t take very good care of them.
I filled them full of garage sale furniture, vacuumed the carpet only when a derelict Pringles can had spilled crumbs all over, and did little to “spruce the place up” beyond a monthly wiping down of the sink.
For me, those places where way-stations, stops along the way, nowhere I wanted to stay.
So, I treated them as such.
But that’s not what the person who lived in the florally decorated apartment did.
Flower Apartment Resident took their temporary situation and made it beautiful.
That person didn’t seem to be sitting around going, “I just need to get through this living situation and onto the next.” No. They seemed to be declaring, “This may be temporary, but as long as I’m here, I’m going to make it good.”
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That’s been a lesson for me.
I’ve had a tendency in my life to simply endure tough, challenging, or disagreeable times—without thinking through how—in the midst of those times—I can make them beautiful.
When I was single and wanting to be married, I just gritted my teeth and sat around waiting for my wife.
When I was in a job I didn’t like, I made do and kept my eye on the door.
When friendships were hard, I held my breath until the relational funk died down.
I regret that attitude.
I wish that, in the midst of tough times, I’d looked at them differently.
Yes, eventually they would come to an end, but what could I have done while I was living through them to show beauty and goodness? How could I have let God exhibit His brilliant traits through my life, even when it wasn’t all I wanted my life to be?
I think God wants us to experience His beauty and goodness in all seasons—even those hard seasons when you just want to blast through them and prove them to be, truly, temporary.
So, how do you do that? Do you just fake happiness? Heck, no. That’s dumb. And dishonest. And, again, dumb.
Instead, I think you do small things (none of those flower baskets were giant) to display something beyond your circumstances. A few ideas…
Worship God. Praise Him. Sing a little song about His goodness. Write a little letter to Him that says He’s still faithful and you trust Him. Tell your heart He’s good, though it doesn’t feel like it every moment of your day.
Focus on other people. It’s hard to do this when your situation make you want to dwell on yourself, but serve others. Doesn’t have to be huge, but go out of your way to do something kind and thoughtful for someone else.
Find the joy in the little things. This reminds yourself—and the people around you—that all’s not lost in those “grit it out” seasons and that there’s goodness to be found everywhere. Eat a sandwich you love and smile. Marvel at a passing bug on the ground. Laugh with friends.
Be grateful. This may be the hardest of all, but science says it does some nutty things inside our minds. Thank God for that sandwich, that bug, that laugh that made your friend Darryl snort. Recognize those delightful things are from God and thank Him.
I don’t want to be the kind of person who’s so frustrated or angry or disappointed during a “I don’t want this” season, that I miss out on the good that could possibly be found and displayed.
I want to be the kind of person who fills those temporary situations with enough flowers that makes anyone I interact with say, “Even then, there’s something good.”