Faith is a Flower: From Summer Grief to a Sigh of Relief

Good morning and welcome to the July 7 edition of my Monday Morning Huddle! Many thanks to returning visitors! If you're stopping by for the first time, thank you for joining this installment of my weekly series written to uplift humanity! Inspiration, motivation, and perhaps a new perspective all drawn from nature are the gifts I offer to you, the reader.

Today, we explore summer grief. While it doesn't sound inspirational or motivational, I aim to provide a fresh perspective for the willing-to-receive, transforming sadness into opportunities for happier days ahead. Grief is never an easy navigation, especially during warmer weather, when one would much rather be basking in all of Summer's good vibrations.

Such as life itself, sorrow holds a particular place, one that heavily impacts emotions and often feels too much to bear- but wait! After all the tears, anguish, heartache, and pain, brighter days return, and once again, balance, promise, and joy are restored.

But first, you must find your faith.

Feeling sadness, sorrow, suffering?

Don't worry, I'll guide you through Summer grief, turning it into a sigh of relief.

Faith is a Flower

"Faith is a Flower", a quote, while not singularly made famous by author Joan Walsh Anglund, holds deep meaning that comes from her children's book of the same name.

A beautiful book offering spiritual insight about friendship, love, and faith is partially what inspired today's huddle.

Expanding, I went into nature, specifically a local community garden, just a stone's throw from my home, to capture pictures of summer flowers.

Further inspiration came from recent grief and how being in nature has been key to healing. Then I thought: perhaps I should share my insights and sources with readers.

Collectively, we look forward to the warmer months; Summer scenery, events, laughter, outings with friends, family, & lovers, and all the wonderful things associated with bright blooms, greenery, fresh air, and so forth.

Despite all the ups, grief doesn't pass us by just because the calendar depicts picnic season and sunshine.

Life happens, things happen, and sometimes, sorrow visits at the least opportune time- in Summer.

Navigating grief is never easy, yet somehow, sadness in Summer feels a little off, even unfair. The truth is: life cannot always be sunshine and rainbows; however, like anything, the emotions are temporary. Nature lends her hand with many healing sources, and the power of flowers is one of them. All one must do is simply believe.

My sigh of relief

Recently, I've been a little down after finally starting my divorce process. For those unaware, I have been estranged from my husband for many years. He is an addict who has suffered from mental health issues and bouts of homelessness. Luckily, there has been a shift in his situation, and I've been able to locate him- we are filing for an amicable divorce after thirty-three years.

Grief hit suddenly and hard, leaving me a bit perplexed. Ultimately, this is what I sought for decades, to cut the chord, the ties that bind me, so I can be completely free to, hopefully one day, find love again.

Hmm...

Nature walks and time among flowers offered me a perspective- fleur of faith, I will call it.

Observing various flowers and stages of development made me think of life cycles and the advancement of personal spiritual growth.

Seed in soil to full-on majestic bloom, I realized my grief was merely a so-long to an old cycle and an adieu to something new. It's funny how sometimes the very thing we wish to rid ourselves of or be done with becomes a moment of anguish, heartache, and pain, when the long-sought end of said cycle draws near its end.

Sitting with my sorrow among flowers alerted me to something beautiful: even when something appears to be wilting, dying, or ending, something else, something new, is nearby waiting to flourish.

Behold a wilting flower

When I saw this poor dear Hibiscus, at first, I thought how sad it was to see her drooping. Wilting and drooping, while surrounding flowers stood loud and proud.

Then I revisited the garden again this morning, and guess what?

Miss Hibiscus, Rose of Sharon, was not dying; she was getting ready to open her arms to the world. How did I make such a mistake?

As delighted as I was, I felt foolish for not knowing better. On Sunday, the flower appeared to be on her final leg, but a day later, she was actually getting ready to step up and make her mark in the world.

Once again, I revisited my recent grief and then I smiled: My previous assumption that somehow my sorrow was misplaced, that it had its time and place, suddenly became an epiphany.

A soon-to-be divorce is not a wilting flower or a horrific ending; it is a transitioning process to a future garden filled with beautiful blossoms in many hues. My grief is natural as I move beyond one cycle of life. My tears wash away remnants of pain, the pain of a season that is nearly over. I trust that these very same tears will water seeds, seeds I will plant, growing new experiences, new adventures, the new me calling for me.

So much is flourishing in the future, I feel it, I know it, so I say so long to the days of old, allowing the power of Summer flowers to nourish my grief. I trust the process, I have faith, and having said that, I afford myself a sigh of relief.

What about you, dear ones?

Are you grieving a death, whether of a loved one, an idea, a situation, or a circumstance?

Do you feel out of place or sorts with said grief, especially during Summer?

Do you wish to find your solace and peace, hoping this all will be brief?

Then find the power of flowers: sit in silence, breathe, friend, breathe, and soon, very soon, you will sigh, R*****

Always, always keep the faith!

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Author's note: collage photos from left to right, Scarlet Bee Balm, Zebrina (Common Mallow), Japanese Morning Glory, Zonal Geranium, Rose of Sharon (Hibiscus Syriacus), Summer Snapdragon