What can we learn from daffodils?

This morning, my friend Lorna and I went to a nursing home near Consett. Every first Friday of the month, we visit to administer Holy Communion to those who can't get to church. It is such a privilege to do this and to be a part of the lives of those whom we visit.

During our visit today, we got around to talking to one of the ladies we visit about flowers, most notably daffodils. Dorothy had been given a bunch as a gift and said that there was much to be learnt from them. Intrigued, I asked her to tell us more. Dorothy explained that when she looks at the flowers, she appreciates their beauty which is all the more to her because it is fleeting; there is simplicity and beauty in the flowers themselves, but also because they do not last for long: through their existence we are reminded of the passing of time; of seasons and the present.

There is a lesson to be learnt from this. We often spend so much time either looking back at the past or looking forward to the future and perhaps not focussing on the beauty of what is in front of us as much as we should.

Noticing and appreciating the beauty of things around us can be a source of real pleasure in life, but it can be so hard to do when life is hectic and stresses and strains take over. Often, if I am feeling overwhelmed by jobs I need to do, I do not spend enough time looking for the beauty in things as they are then, in that moment; this applies to every part of life: to family, to friendships and to work. One of my favourite books is Angela Ashwin's "Heaven in Ordinary"; Angela encourages us to take a similar approach to prayer and not to feel that one has to confine oneself to pray in certain ways or at certain times. Time to pray, to thank God for his beautiful world, can be found in the ordinary, everyday moments of life as well as the extraordinary.

I am going to try and do this more; to see the beauty in everything in the moments that pass minute-by-minute, day-by-day and to thank God for them. I think that I shall start by opening my eyes a little more.

Thank you, Dorothy.