I will always remember a beautiful Sunday morning when I drove across the rolling farmlands of Nebraska. For as far as my eye could see, the fields were aglow with blooming sunflowers, set against a vast blue sky. I remember smiling and feeling that I had entered a sanctuary. All were standing in unity, as though worshiping Creator.
On my right, a display of bright faces, stretching upwards, focused on their life source—the sun. To my left, the opposite side. I was in their midst! However, I noticed some with their faces lowered and nearly hidden behind the taller ones in the crowd.
That scenic drive instantly quickened questions about myself. Which would I be? The sunflower standing tall, yet submissive, my trust in my source—the Son? Would those I meet hear praises and encouragement from my lips?
How noticeable is the joy of my own salvation?
Or…am I foolish enough to think that I could lower my face and I would blend into the crowd to escape Creator’s ever watchful eye?
King David knew he couldn’t hide anywhere. He asked God, “Where can I go from Thy presence? If I ascend to Heaven or make my bed in sheol, Thou art there.
Even the darkness is not dark to Thee” (Psalm 139:7-14).
The sunflowers with their faces down will probably survive until harvest but their fruit may not reach its potential.
As I drove along, I personalized faces. Family, friends, brothers and sisters who had somehow gotten lost in the crowd and even myself at times. Various hurts, disappointments, dealings, and losses, are circumstances that could cause us to turn our face away from our source, when it should be the opposite.
The Bible tells us to stand in the light of God’s love. The Lord will cause His light to shine upon us, and bring us peace. What wonderful words of hope.
Take a few moments to reflect. In a crowd, anywhere, which face do you think would be yours? Do our faces show that we are walking in full ‘Sonlight’?
Last summer I planted a crowd of sunflowers in my garden. Joy flooded my heart every time I looked at them. I remembered that Sunday morning in Nebraska and how God used an example that I, an artist and writer, could easily relate to.
I felt peace for the ones with their bright glowing faces, offering themselves up to the sun—their life source. I held hope for those whose heads were heavy laden and their faces downcast.
Just as the Lord knows every hair on our heads, He knows the number of seeds in each sunflower. He knows exactly where each face is—in a crowd—or anywhere.