I’ve noticed the wildflowers bloom greatest in the valleys—there was even a “super bloom” of wildflowers that recently sprouted among Death Valley, only occurring when conditions were perfect.
To me, a flower fest in the middle of the desert goes against everything I used to believe.
The top is where I wanted to be, not in some valley or ugly desert. But it turned out that the top can be a lonely and desolate place. Nothing much grew there.
Flowers and trees have a difficult time multiplying in frigid temps, climate changes or low oxygen. But they bloom and grow in triumph in the lowest and driest of valleys.
It’s in these valleys where some of the most beautiful views can be seen.
The top looks like I have it all together. That I’m some perfect adoptive mom who never struggles with doubt or regret or questions of, “What the hell am I doing?”
The top looks like I have an adoption reunion that resembles some Disney fairy tale when in fact I’m floundering, consumed with inadequacy and wondering how I can compensate for 18 years of a birth daughter’s life that I missed.
The top looks like I have a perfect marriage with a perfect family, when in fact we bicker on the way to church and sometimes argue at the dinner table.
Aren’t we human after all?
Yep, I’m in a valley. And I don’t want to be.
But it’s here in this valley, that I can sit with you in your struggles and questions and you can sit with me in mine.
It’s in the valleys that we stand next to each other. We can tell each other our deepest, darkest secrets and yet we aren’t left standing alone.
All of us grow at our own pace. We yearn for someone to whisper: “I may not understand what you are going through or why you chose the path you did, but I won’t let you go. I’m not leaving. I’ll stay put in this valley with you.”
Staying is community.
Staying is friendship.
Staying is church.
Flowers stick by one another in the valleys. And that’s a beautiful view, indeed.