The Way of the Wildflower

Sometimes you pick up a book and begin to read and find the book really resonates.  You find yourself thinking about it when you aren’t reading and looking forward to returning to it. The book becomes an invitation to a place you want to be, or a feeling you want to have, or an adventure you want to enjoy. Soon, you find yourself talking about it to others because you want them to enjoy it as you did. You want someone to step into the experience with you.

Isn’t this what we do with all the good things in life…think about them, look forward to them, and talk about them? Aren’t good things enjoyed so much more when enjoyed with someone?

In this post, I’ll tell you about a book that was a gift from my friend Milly. It’s called The Way of the Wildflower, by Ruth Chou Simons, and its subtitle is Gospel Meditations to Unburden Your Anxious Soul.

This lovely book of meditations is filled cover to cover with watercolors of beautiful wildflowers, so I was wowed right from the unwrapping. Some of this has to do with the fact that I have been learning how to paint over the past several years, and my favorite subject is flowers.

This is the first book by Ruth Chou Simons I’ve ever read. I confess I thought I’d enjoy it mostly for her art and her commentary on the flowers, not for the meditations. I goofed on all three accounts. The book surprised me because it’s rare that I find a devotional I stick with.

The Way of the Wildflower has been a delightful morning companion for some months, and the Lord has used it to feed me in numerous ways. You could say I’ve been chewing my way through the book. It’s caused me to reflect again on the verse that says, “Your words were found and I ate them, and your words became to me a joy and the delight of my heart, for I am called by your name, O LORD, God of hosts.” (Jeremiah 15:16).

I’ve been wondering what was different with this one? If the art drew me in, why did I stay until the end? First a brief overview, and then I’ll share what I found.

The book has five sections based on her conclusions about a wildflower’s ways, such as The Way of Dependency or The Way of Resilience. Each of those five sections includes six meditations, all illustrated by the uniqueness of a particular wildflower. Titles of the thirty meditations begin with the word “when.” For example, When Grief is Fresh, or When You Can’t Turn the Clock Back, or When You Don’t Want to Read the Bible, or When You Feel Alone in the World.

My sense right off was that she is discussing things that not only I experience, but that she also experiences, as well as everyone walking along in faith with us. It was not if this occurs, but when, which establishes a sense of connection. When “all y’all” are experiencing these things, I don’t feel so odd; when “all y’all” are experiencing these things, I’m stirred to close the gap, to move towards you and look up together. These titles of her meditations speak of what her writing invokes—a sense of togetherness, grace, and deep understanding. That’s the first thing that kept me going.

Another reason I stayed is because I’m a wordie. I thrill to how words are so creative and powerful, and I found myself dwelling on her well-chosen words. I know finding the particular words we need to convey our thoughts can be arduous, but it galvanizes us when we find just the right word or phrase. I particularly liked her verbs…ones like coddling, mirroring, wrestling, cultivating, chewing, hushed, shelter, exchange, circumvent, or navigate. I think they stir me because I can picture them happening in my mind, I feel the energy of the action, and they match with my experiences or my hopes.

Numerous other factors kept me reading until the end of her book! Most of them I can corral under this category: I like her writing style.

  • She engages my imagination.
  • She writes at times about God’s heart for us, His insights into us, and the Scripture writer’s understanding of us. I was gripped by these as they speak to God’s love for me and His intimate knowledge of me.
  • She draws my attention to Jesus repeatedly and to spiritual realities which “reflect spiritual earthly realities.” For example, “Because of Jesus, we get to daily remind ourselves that we are never alone.”
  • She explores feelings and presents truth right next to each other so that I understand myself, my feelings, and my heart better; I became more aware of my underlying beliefs and attitudes and was able to lay them open to the Truth.

Yet, she leaves enough unsaid to allow the Holy Spirit to speak. As I read, questions, revelations, and insights would arise in my own spirit. Her writing style invited me down a path, ushering me to the gateway where I would discuss these directly with the Lord.

I recommend The Way of the Wildflower and hope you find it to be a book of grace and deep understanding, one that reinforces your delight in His promises, and draws you into a quiet place of greater dependance on our trustworthy God.

To be specific, anyone who wants to experience more freedom in their walk with the Lord, anyone who battles anxious thoughts and fears, anyone who wants to live dependently on Him and walk in the comfort of His care will find reading it a blessed adventure.

Hello world!

Two of our children sometimes volley openly for status of “favorite child.” Of course we deny any suggestions that such a position is obtainable, but that hasn’t yet deterred anyone’s fun in claiming it. Yet at our house this spring, we’ve developed a certain affinity toward one of our backyard birds. The Carolina Wren has definitely become the favorite! They have been our close companions during these stay at home times. Watching them is so entertaining! They’re loaded with personality, and their song … well, it’s so cheering.

The wrens built a nest in one of our hanging plants, a pink geranium just off the patio.  I suspected the nest was there, and discovered it one day when I took it down for watering. It was a burrowed-out cavity down in the dirt and had lots of eggs. I’d say at least six. They were small and had little brown speckles. I hung the plant back up, leaving it alone now except for light watering, and we watched and waited for the eggs to hatch. We knew when it happened by the non-stop trips back and forth bringing insects to the nest. After a while we could hear sounds coming from the nest as well. Sometimes it was the female responding to the male supplying food, and sometimes it was the baby birds.

 One morning I went out and, to my amazement, there was a fledgling sitting out in plain sight on one of the branches of the geranium. It was staring right at me. I was stunned. Something was wrong here! This little bird was ugly! I mean really ugly! I was expecting something tiny with a lot of down, a short tail, maybe some disproportion, but cute, or at least cute-ish. But what I saw… well, for one this bird was baldheaded with a totally naked head. Second, it was as big as the parent wrens but broader. Its beak looked prehistoric. Not only that, there was some attitude. It had a pompous expression as if to say, “I came out of this nest all by myself. I’m really grand. I do believe I rule the roost. Bring me some food!” After a bit we realized a second fledgling had emerged from the nest and was down in the foliage jumping around practicing its moves. The first one stayed put on that same branch and moved only when a parent wren appeared with food, doing all it could to nab a tasty morsel before it was fed to someone down in the recesses of the plant.

We were mesmerized. It was like when you see something really tragic or shockingly offensive, and you can’t tear your eyes away. Then the truth began to sink in — this was not a baby wren! It was a cowbird fledgling! A pair of brown-headed cowbirds had been at our feeder off and on and I remembered that they lay their eggs in other birds’ nests. Now I felt worse. Here was this huge fledgling who looked larger than its parents, perched there looking so self-important; all the while it was totally dependent on the work of the smaller, very industrious wrens. I have read about this and I know it occurs, but I didn’t like that it occurred right here with my favorite bird. And by day two, we were wondering: where are the other fledglings, the baby wrens? Why aren’t we seeing them? Have these two cowbirds prevented their feeding? I was troubled and offended by this backyard drama, trying to make sense of the seeming injustice of it.

And just like a fluttering of wings, another truth glided in and settled over me, as these familiar words spoke a gentle reminder to my heart:

Nothing in my hands I bring,

Simply to the cross I cling;

Naked come to Thee for dress,

Helpless look to Thee for grace;

Foul I to the fountain fly,

Wash me, Savior, or I die.

Rock of Ages, by Augustus Toplady

My child, you are like this fledgling – ugly, exposed, weak, helpless, and totally dependent.  Your feathers get ruffled and your mouth can be way too big. You get puffed up, and tend to focus on your own needs instead of those of others I’ve placed around you. You know how to bring offense.

Don’t be troubled. I love you with an everlasting love. You already know first-hand the love of an adoptive parent. And I have adopted you, knowing you were ugly, naked, and offensive, and brought you permanently into my family. I have rescued you and will forever protect you and provide for you. I will guide you. My grace is sufficient in your weakness; my work has secured your pardon. I will clothe you with my righteousness, a robe of white to cover your nakedness… are you still concerned about drama and injustice?

No, Lord, I’m not concerned about that anymore.

Thank you, Lord. Thank you for this tender reminder. I think it was a rebuke? But it felt so good. Thank you for supplying the fountain to which I fly. Thank you for your grace and your patience. Thank you for opening my eyes to see you, for adopting me, and providing for every need. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for speaking into my heart today.

The wrens fledged their two cowbirds, and after a week or so settled into their empty nester role. I’ve been learning their songs, the male being the most vocal, and can pick them out among other calls. They don’t migrate; they mate for life, so hopefully we’ll enjoy them for some years to come. Their sight and song will prompt a heart celebration of the gentle reminder I received. The cowbirds? I no longer feel the disdain I had, but am drawn to them now, as usually happens with those in whom we have much in common. I appreciate that they are bold in their neediness and so seemingly unaware of anything but the good gifts brought to them by adoptive parents.

Mom wren

How about you? Are you anything like me and the fledgling cowbirds? Let us reach out in grace to one another with encouragement to receive the Lord’s sacrifice that brings us life, and as we know Him better and better learn to rest in His steadfast love.


The title of this post, “Hello World!” seemed appropriate for both this fledgling and for me. This is my first post as I launch tarrythere.com, so now I’m a fledgling blogger! To learn more about my blog, about me, or about our Creator, select the About drop down in the sidebar. Thank you for visiting. I’d love to hear from you!

“Adoption is the highest privilege of the gospel. The traitor is forgiven, brought in for supper, and given the family name. To be right with God the Judge is a great thing, but to be loved and cared for by God the Father is greater.”

J. I. Packer (1926-2020)