Sunflowers

I love sunflowers. I likely developed my fascination with them from my Mother; when I was five she hand-stenciled them on my bunkbed to match a blanket I had, and a few years later had a garden mural with them painted on my bedroom wall. But I think another part of my affinity for sunflowers is rooted in the way sunflowers move.

As the sun travels east to west the head of the sunflower bears the same direction to follow it. Then, during the night, the sunflower head returns to face the east again and anticipate the dawn.

I want to be like a sunflower, in that my face is constantly turned that I may watch the Son of God, my Savior, and that everyday I repeat that process. When the sky is dark and I cannot see Him, I want to be able to return to where I know I'll find Him when the shadows pass. The sunflower doesn't despair when evening arrives and nor is it inactive as it waits...the sunflower knows the morning will come, and so just as faithfully prepares for when it once more will glimpse the Son.

I only just recently learned something about the seeds of the sunflower though. I had previously enjoyed the recognition that as the sunflower head moved, it allowed the seeds it carried to receive the maximum amount of light they could. I related this to my personal life, asking, do I intentionally choose to expose others to the light I know? And do I teach them the direction of the Son? I prayed so, and I sought that intentionality, but there is more to the arrangment of the seeds on the head than I had known.

The shape and proportion of the seeds combined with the pattern and degree (fibonacci numbers) of their angles around the center of the head is actually the scientifically most plausible way for the sunflower to have the highest seed-carrying-capacity. This sounds rather technical, but the point I try to make is: Sunflower seeds are arranged in such a way that there may be the highest number possible present.

It reminds me of the bracelet I wear from Hume Lake Christian Camps. The bracelet says "HPI" which stands for "Highest Possible Impact". Let us not just live our lives in a way that some will see the light, but let's covet the lives of all for Christ. He says that the "harvest is plentiful but the workers are few". I do not mean to encourage that we judge our lives by a count of individuals, as I think it was clear earlier the quality of the sunlight is the goal. But I do mean to encourage that we be as effective as we can for Christ. He made our mortal time short in comparison to His eternity, so let's be conscious that we have no promised tomorrows, and invest ourselves accordingly.

Our lives are not our own, and nor are our talents. Let us pray to be, and then actually employ ourselves to be good stewards with what He has instilled in us.

(Artwork: Top Piece, Acrylic painted at Age 5. Bottem Piece, Charcoal drawn at Age 19)