Chasing Flowers

“Bella, we’re going to be late, hurry up.” I scurry around my messy room, my eyes darting from place to place. “One second...”I toss old books, faded magazines, and random clothes in the air, hoping to reveal what I'm searching for. “Where is it?” I mumble under my breath. “BELLA!!!”, my mom repeats louder than before.  Fumbling around, I trip over laundry baskets and worn-out shoes. Vigorously I throw my desk drawer open and sigh, snatching up the bright pink lip gloss that I've been looking for. I roll my eyes annoyed. “Creates the illusion of full luscious lips with a tantalizing tingle in a high shine, shimmering finish.” Looking in the mirror, I lather on a glossy layer. Puckering my lips, I examine the results, but my lips look the same as before. I meet the gaze of my own gray eyes, gray like boring dust bunnies. My straggly hair and short lashes don't help. I sigh, as I notice that my effort to hide my inflamed acne with base earlier this morning did not help. I feel gross and I don't like what I see. I've studied this mirror a thousand times as I've meticulously gotten ready for school, church, or special events. But today, the girl that I see staring back at me, is trying her hardest not to cry. “ God,'' I whisper softly through pitiful warm tears, “why aren't I pretty”. It was really one of my most asked questions to God. I can hear my mom's lecture running through my head, the same one I'd heard a thousand times before. I was made in God's image, and what counts is on the inside. Even though I know these words are true, knowing and believing are two totally different things. “ Bella, the tour starts in thirty minutes” my mom shouts impatiently. I wipe away smudged makeup and hurry off to the car.

 On the way to the flower garden, I try to fix my hair in the reflection of the car window, which doesn't help much. Settling for tangled hair, I work on my stubby lashes, trying to curl them with the tips of my fingers. When we arrive I'm distraught and disheveled. The only thing worse than facing my reflection in the mirror is knowing that other people can now scrutinize my appearance as well. 

The flower garden is as beautiful as ever. With assortments of red, yellow, pink, and orange, each flower is stunning and impressive. I'd been here before. I remember skipping between the rows of flowers. It's a familiar place but a foreign feeling, as I trudge through the same green grass I once twirled in. I had once been known as a carefree Bella, and I'm not sure when it happened, but I had changed.

“These” our guide exclaims “are Gardenias“. She seems overly excited to share all the facts and information about each flower that we come upon. However, pastel petals, vibrant hues, and showy blossoms are what catch my attention, although they don't keep it for long. I grimace as I spot a tall girl that struts alongside another group. She's gorgeous, with long straight hair, hypnotizing blue eyes, and a stunning smile that outshines the sun that settles on her sun-kissed cheeks. She places her hands on her slim hips and giggles, the wind in her hair. I swell up in jealousy, as she leans over to smell a pink rose from a bush crowded with blooms, but even its most beautiful blossom can't compete with her beauty. For the second time, today tears well up in my eyes, and a lump forms on my throat. Why do I feel this way? Everywhere I look I'm reminded that I'm not enough, that I don't measure up. I ask again, “Why God, why didn't you make me beautiful” but it comes out as more of a plea than a question. I continue to shuffle through the flowers, each one of them making me curious as to why the same God that made these flowers so gorgeous, would make me so mediocre ...why if He had the power to make me as enchanting, and shimmery as He did the stars and the moon, did He make me so dull and boring… and why, oh why, didn't He make me like the girl smelling the pink rose? 

I stumble along the narrow path… all in my head, each flower fading into the next. But after what feels like forever, we come to a particular flower that catches my attention. And though it's not what I'd classify as beautiful beyond comparison, it stands out to me. It's interesting and … unique… for reasons I can't really explain. I scowl and squint at the flower trying to figure out what it is that intrigues me about it. It's as if it's beckoning me to sit here and stare at it until I can find something to appreciate about it. I sit...and I stare, but there's nothing that's quite special about its appearance. It's simple with a dark green stem, soft purple petals, and sparse grassy leaves. Finally, after what feels like forever, I lean in to smell the flower, and to my surprise, it has the most pleasantly sweet aroma. I close my eyes and take another sniff of the flower. I'm in awe, and upon leaving the vicinity of the scent, I'm suddenly extremely aware of how bland the crisp morning air smells. I lean over again and inhale deeply. I smile. This seemingly average flower has my full attention. Realizing my eyes are still clamped shut, I immediately open them, hoping that no one has seen. I'm relieved when I see the group of tourists examining another irresistible rose. I look down at the flower and smirk, going down once more to take a whiff of the lovely fragrance. However, this time, when I open my eyes, though the tourists are still gawking over the rose… our tour guide stands over me and smiles. I blush...embarrassed to be caught, but her understanding eyes are reassuring, “lavender“ she says softly,  “known for its most special feature, its scent ”. I smile, as she returns back to the group, golden ponytail bouncing, “lavender ” I whisper.

As we continue through the garden, my head is once again in the clouds. Maybe that's what God means when He says we're made in His image. Maybe He means that He made us all beautiful, just in different ways. Walking through the many flowers, I see them in a whole new light and admire the ways that God made each of them special and unique. I notice the dainty petals of the daisy flower, the bright blooms of the dazzling marigolds, the showy blossoms of the hibiscus, and the abundance of multi-colored zinnias. Maybe we just need to expand our definition of true beauty to recognize it in the simple, the mundane, and the ordinary.

As our tour comes to an end, I’m tempted to twirl through the flowers as I once did when I was just a girl. I feel so happy and carefree as I continue to think back on the lavender flower that God made so perfectly. I too am made perfect in God’s image, I’ve always known this, but now I believe it.