Dead Flowers

I spent the week before my daughter's June wedding running
last-minute trips to the caterer, florist, tuxedo shop, and the
church about forty miles away.

As happy as I was that Patsy was marrying a good Christian
young man, I felt laden with responsibilities as I watched my
budget dwindle.

So many details, so many bills, and so little time. My son Jack
was away at college, but he said he would be there to walk his
younger sister down the aisle, taking the place of his dad who
had died a few years before. He teased Patsy, saying he'd
wanted to give her away since she was about three years old!

To save money, I gathered blossoms from several friends who had
large magnolia trees. Their luscious, creamy-white blooms and
slick green leaves would make beautiful arrangements against
the rich dark wood inside the church.

After the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding, we
banked the podium area and choir loft with magnolias. As we
left just before midnight, I felt tired but satisfied this
would be the best wedding any bride had ever had! The music,
the ceremony, the reception - and especially the flowers -
would be remembered for years.

The big day arrived - the busiest day of my life - and while
her bridesmaids helped Patsy to dress, her fiance Tim walked
with me to the sanctuary to do a final check. When we opened
the door and felt a rush of hot air, I almost fainted; and then
I saw them - all the beautiful white flowers were black.
Funeral black. An electrical storm during the night had knocked
out the air conditioning system, and on that hot summer day,
the flowers had wilted and died.

I panicked, knowing I didn't have time to drive back to our
hometown, gather more flowers, and return in time for the
wedding.

Tim turned to me. 'Edna, can you get more flowers?
I'll throw away these dead ones and put fresh flowers in these
arrangements.'

I mumbled, 'Sure,' as he be-bopped down the hall to
put on his cuff links.

Alone in the large sanctuary, I looked up at the dark
wooden beams in the arched ceiling. 'Lord,' I prayed, 'please
help me. I don't know anyone in this town. Help me find someone
willing to give me flowers - in a hurry!'

I scurried out praying for four things: the blessing of white
magnolias, courage to find them in an unfamiliar yard, safety
from any dog that may bite my leg, and a nice person who would
not get out a shotgun when I asked to cut his tree to shreds.

As I left the church, I saw magnolia trees in the distance.
I approached a house...No dog in sight. I knocked on the door
and an older man answered. So far so good. No shotgun. When I
stated my plea the man beamed, 'I'd be happy to!'

He climbed a stepladder and cut large boughs and handed them
down to me. Minutes later, as I lifted the last armload into my
car trunk, I said, 'Sir, you've made the mother of a bride
happy today.'

'No, Ma'am,' he said. 'You don't understand what's happening
here.'

'What?' I asked.

'You see, my wife of sixty-seven years died on Monday. On
Tuesday I received friends at the funeral home, and on
Wednesday . . . He paused. I saw tears welling up in his eyes.

'On Wednesday I buried her.' He! looked away.
'On Thursday most of my out-of-town relatives went back home,
and on Friday - yesterday - my children left.'

I nodded.

'This morning,' he continued, 'I was sitting in my den crying
out loud. I miss her so much. For the last sixteen years, as
her health got worse, she needed me. But now nobody needs me.
This morning I cried, 'Who needs an eighty-six-year-old wore-
out man? Nobody!' I began to cry louder. 'Nobody needs me!'
About that time, you knocked, and said, 'Sir, I need you.'

I stood with my mouth open.

He asked, 'Are you an angel? The way the light shone around
your head into my dark living room...'

I assured him I was no angel.

He smiled. 'Do you know what I was thinking when I handed you
those magnolias?'

'No.'

'I decided I'm needed. My flowers are needed. Why, I might have
a flower ministry! I could give them to everyone! Some caskets
at the funeral home have no flowers. People need flowers at
times like that and I have lots of them. They're all over the
backyard! I can give them to hospitals, churches - all sorts of
places. You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to serve the
Lord until
the day He calls me home!'

I drove back to the church, filled with wonder. On Patsy's
wedding day, if anyone had asked me to encourage someone who
was hurting, I would have said, 'Forget it! It's my only
daughter's wedding, for goodness' sake! There is no way I can
minister to anyone today.'

But God found a way - Through dead flowers.

'Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It's the way it is.
The way you cope with it is what makes the difference.' That you for your Blog . Everytime I read it I am Blessed ,
Judy wilson
Clinta , Ohio