Shannon S. McKee is communicator at heart. She is a writer, editor, and speaker. She writes at www.shannonsmckee.com. She coordinates the Women's Ministry at Redemption Chapel in Stow, Ohio, where she is a regular teacher and mentor. She is passionate about helping women thrive from the inside out. Her other titles include: Grace-dweller. Lover of Rick. Momma to 2. Tea Drinker. Entrepreneur. Putterer. Consumer of Dark Chocolate.
about July. They make me smile there – tall and proud with their vibrant yellow petals and their big black center.
But, in this season of my own soul-tending, I have been struck afresh by their beauty in a different way. I am marveling at them right now, as they lay dying. There is another kind of beauty in them at this stage. It’s a stark kind of beauty. One that comes after the glory.
Because they have spent themselves for something wonderful. They are depleted and exhausted by their summer effort. Their proud stems are bending over and most of their petals have dropped. A few hang on… reminders of the glory.
There is something profoundly beautiful about that dying. Something that stirs in my soul as I contemplate the shriveled leaves and the scattered petals. So strong is our longing for the glory, that sometimes I think we miss the beauty of this. Jesus didn’t. He knew that the dying had its own kind of splendor. In speaking of His own pending death, He said this: “I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”
If we’re honest with ourselves, we’ll admit that we’re actually not so sure about this. Could it really mean that Jesus bids me come and die? And that there is really some beauty in that? A glory of its own?
In the agony of having my petals stripped clean by a strong-willed child or a selfish friend, there is beauty? When I pour myself out for my kids and I have nothing left but shriveled leaves and a blackened nub? When I am bent low by the harsh winds of this world and insensitive demands of others? When no one even notices me? Beauty? There? Could it really be that when I give my life away, I gain the hold world?
He knows it’s sort of counter-intuitive and
definitely a bit upside down from our climb
-ahead-at-all-costs culture where self is the be-all, end-all. But, still, Jesus says yes. There is. Will we believe Him? Will we come and die, laying our own desires aside? Spending our days serving others? Giving instead of buying? Going instead of relaxing? Sacrificing instead of indulging? Submitting instead of demanding?
And after we have been spent, what then? Will we yield to Winter and wait for Spring to call forth new life from the very ground where the spent petals lay?
Nature echoes it. The Black-Eyed Susans attest to this truth. Spend yourself and see, they say.
RHG Magazine & TV Guide TM - Holiday 2018 © All rights reserved.
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