The Tender Voice of Flowers

When life feels heavy and hard to understand, God sometimes sends beauty as a message—a tender reminder that He sees us, even in the dying places. This is how He spoke to me one Sunday morning… through flowers.

June 2, 2025

Yesterday, I drove to church alone. JD stayed home because of the pain in his leg. Saturday had been brutal for him—full of disappointment as he wrestled with the reality of how much it hurt to take a few steps with his new prosthetic leg.

As I worshiped, I felt a deep peace—assurance that JD and I would be okay, no matter what our future held.

I voiced my love to God. And then, quietly, I began to thank Him. Not just for the obvious blessings, but for things I had never dared to name with gratitude before:

-My tinnitus and hearing loss.

-breast cancer.

-JD’s four knee surgeries, the amputation,

and all the surgeries and complications to followed.

-My own back and nerve pain that has

stolen sleep and strength.

With each memory, gratitude welled up—not for the suffering itself, but for God’s nearness through it. For how His grace has carried me, for His love that has borne so many burdens, how He has tenderly refined me and protected my heart from bitterness.

This was new for me—to thank Him not just for blessings, but for the breaking.

After the service, a friend greeted me with her radiant smile and placed an exquisite bouquet in my arms—roses, hydrangeas, lilies, all bursting with color. “Because I love you, Leigh,” was all she said.

Later, when I arrived home, another friend met me with pink peonies, soup, garlic bread, and dessert for us. She insisted, “The flowers are for you “because I love you, Leigh.”

Two friends. Two bouquets. Two echoes of love.

Overwhelmed by these women’s costly generosity, I asked God, "Are these flowers from You?”

That afternoon, I shared the story with a friend, wondering aloud if these were funeral flowers—a gesture of God’s sympathy as I had just thanked Him for my many “deaths .” She drew a quick breath, and said, “Wait, I have something I need to send”. She texted me these words from poet Ingrid Goff-Madoff:

“God spoke today in flowers, and I, who was waiting on words, almost missed the conversation.”

That night, I woke several times, talking to God and replaying the day in mind. The scent of flowers’ lingered in my thoughts.

As dawn broke, I wondered: Could God have placed those flowers in my arms simply because He knows how much I love flowers, and because He knows how deeply I need to hear “Leigh, I love you”?

Perhaps the first bouquet was for the “funeral” of all I had lost, those dreams and the life I would have chosen. And the second was a whispered reminder that in Him I am more alive than ever. He celebrated with me and rejoiced over me with love by sending me beautiful flowers.

I don’t pretend to understand why God allows suffering. But I see what it produces in me. When I die to myself, my wants, my desires, I live more fully present to others and to Him.

I don’t believe God causes the pain, but I do believe He transforms it. His presence turns loss into love, dying into deeper living.

His calming presence in those midnight hours has become my most profound joy.

Oh, how He loves me!

Oh, how I love Him!

When you gave me flowers, you gave me a bit of God‘s art work. So thank you, dear friends, and thank you, my mysterious wonderful creator God.

Romans 5:1–5

“…we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”

Romans 5:3-5(NIV)