The Magnolia Flower

On my way back to the office after lunch today, I passed a young magnolia tree with several beautiful flowers blooming on its branches. One flower in particular caught my eye as I drew nearer. It was just about perfect, in that stage of blossoming where it is fully open, a milky white with an almost gold-beige dusted over the outside of the inner petals still curling slightly toward the center. Eyes transfixed, I pondered what this flower could mean as I passed. “Is it a sign?” I wondered.

I am looking for a sign, some sort of guidance, or direction from God. Everything seems so uncertain around me. From day to day I don’t know if I am headed on the right path, and I long for clarity, for some sure hint that I am where I am supposed to be, and if I’m not, some guidance to steer me toward my place.

One day a few months ago a remarkable man, a priest I know, surrounded my husband and me in prayer along with his wife and another couple. Something happened in that moment. As I held my husband’s hand, there was a presence, a charge, a fullness, a feeling I can’t completely explain. And when the prayer ended, it was gone too. It was then that this wise man, who has been comforted by God through many trials himself, told me that he saw a beautiful, perfect magnolia flower as he prayed for us.

Since that day, every time I see, think or hear of magnolias, I stop and wonder if this could be the answer. Each and every one I encounter could be a hint from God, or proof of His presence in my life. And as I pass this one small tree, I can’t help but wonder if this is God’s way of telling me that I am on course, that I belong where I am and I should stay despite my struggle to feel at peace with the many changes around me.

Most days I return home from work exhausted, weighed down by the tension of the dramas that unfold around me slowly at work. It is all I can do to keep from telling them I won’t be back the next day. At home, my husband and children greet me with smiles and hugs, and I know they also wish I could stay with them each day instead of leaving. And there is an ache deep inside me as I realize I am giving up so much love and joy to be in a place that, for me, is riddled with mistrust and political posturing. Could it be that God is telling me to hang in and persevere in this time of trial? Is it His way of telling me that He is there in the midst of it all? ? I wish that the vision had been mine. I wish that I had seen the flower so that I would know when I encountered it.

How can one flower hold so much power, such promise, such potential. I had to wonder as it passed out of my field of vision if it was that sign from God, or if in this case it was just another pretty flower.