"Why hasn't the flower bloomed yet?" She asked with much curiosity only a three year-old can muster over a small flower in the middle of the field. "Why won't it?"
I leaned in, my chin lightly resting on her shoulder. I wrapped one arm around her waist, breathing her in. "It's not that it couldn't or wouldn't, sweetheart. More of, it's not yet time for it to bloom."
"Will it ever? When?"
I smiled, watching her caress the flower covered in morning dew. "We don't know, my dear. Perhaps in the spring, or in the summer. What I am sure of is He knows when. We just have to wait. At the right time it will bloom, and you will be dazzled by its beauty."
"Am I like the flower, mama?"
"Every one of us is, dear. We blossom at the right moment. At the time when God thinks it would be perfect for us to."
- Pickled Relish
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