Sabbath Rest: On Choosing...

A rose by any other name...flowers are--of all God's creation--most often used in noble symbolism.  It is their greatest dignity.

My family just gave me some for Mother's Day; and today, when I rose early I spied them in the dawn light as the coffee pot offered up its first heady scent of morning brew.
I took a cup and read a bit. George Eliot's words: It will never rain roses.  When we want to have more roses we must plant more trees.
And I read David Kundtz's words reflecting on Eliot's quote in the context of taking a life pause for the sake of life determination:  As Eliot says, if you want roses, plant trees.  What doing nothing can do is help you know what you really want--is it roses, or gladiolas, or redwoods, or none of those?--so that you don't end up with a beautiful garden of what you don't want.
And I thought, "Yes, yes!"

But then...I read a bit of Ann Voskamp, and I remembered (with the aching sweetness she stirs so well) that even with a pause and even with a plan, even with well-chosen seeds, truth is...things can spring from the soil that are still things you don't want. 
I remembered that in the end, it also matters how you put it all on display.  There are so many ways to see a vase of flowers:

A true thing even of the same vase of flowers when differently displayed, under different exposures of light and in nooks of varying dignity...
I dreamed once of preparing a vase of flowers in a sun-filled green kitchen.  This dream involved making a choice--which is the heart of all this anyway.  I could chose a magnificent cut-crystal vase for this spray of bright and varied flowers that were given into my care; but if I made that choice, then I chose a vase that was chained to its place on the kitchen counter.  Soon the flowers in this vase would die for lack of water as it could not reach a spigot anywhere.  On the other hand, I could choose a simple vase that was un-anchored and could move about freely.  This I could easily fill with water, and the flowers would retain their essential beauty for much longer. 
I thought:  the beauty of the crystal vase would be marred by a bouquet of dead blooms.  Better to leave it empty.  The beauty of the humble vase would be enhanced if it nestled such an array, this fountain of shape and color I held trembling in my hand.

I went with the simple vase and prioritized what it nurtured, even as I respected the essential beauty of the other vase.
To this day, it stands as a dream of happy memory and hopeful future.

To all the mothers who choose well...