A Sunflower's Glory

Kabowd. Every time I pass by the sunflowers in my yard, this word comes to mind. For a time, the giant sunflowers towered 12’ over the ground. Now as summer turns to fall, their lanky stalks are bent from flowerheads full of tightly-packed seeds weighing them down.

It looks like they’re bowing.

Kabowd. It’s a Hebrew word from the Old Testament; Hebrew words can be so multi-faceted compared to our simple English language and are worth diving into when reading scripture. Kabowd means glory or honor with weight and can also infer splendor and copiousness. In a sense, the word indicates God’s heavy presence, the fullness – or heaviness - of his glory. It was used to indicate a tangible feeling of God’s manifestation on earth. It is used in the Exodus story when Moses asked to see God and God shielded him with his hand as the weight of his glory passed by. It left Moses so radiant he was forced to veil his face for the sake of not blinding those with him.

The sunflowers were planted by my husband in honor of my dear friend who went to heaven this past May. Sunflowers had a special meaning to her throughout her cancer journey and often spoke encouragement. Her own life was full of planting not just seeds in her gardens, but spiritual seeds in the lives of many be they friend or stranger. She was a woman of intercessory prayer and belief in God’s loving power. She was bold in her prayer life, regularly seeking out opportunities to engage with people and pray for or encourage them.

This summer as our tiny garden seeds grew into sprouts and quickly into lofty large blooms, I marveled at how something so small had so soon grown into something so big. In just no time at all. God’s nature encouraged me: we too can plant tiny seeds for God’s kingdom and not even know or always see how they will grow, how big they can grow or how much they will spread. He encouraged me to be diligent in planting seeds for his kingdom, as my friend had been.

Now that fall has come the flowers’ beauty is fading. It’s time for them to surrender their seeds. This can’t happen when they’re standing upright and full of life. As they die, they begin to loose their seeds. Hundreds from just one tiny seed. Each 12” flowerhead full of new potential life soon be able to become their own towering plant. Or maybe some seeds will nourish animals. Each will serve some sort of purpose, no matter whether it lives on or not.

As we mourned my friend, this was the picture we kept getting. A woman who planted seeds for the kingdom. Who planted in obedience and in compassion, to see God move in the people around her. A woman who spent much of her life bowed in prayer. We would get to watch the seeds she planted live on.

Kabowd. A life lived in the weighty presence of the Lord. A lowly posture, not haughty and “in control” but stooped in submission.

What purpose does a flower have, but to yield its beauty for a while then to fade away, bowed in glory, yielding seeds to harvest. “It produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.”

I watch the flower fading away, its once glorious golden yellow leaves shriveling into dark, dull, brittle strands. I watched my dear friend’s life and beauty fade away, her once beautiful golden yellow hair the victim to another cancer diagnoses.

“What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a while and then vanishes.”

Part of God’s mercy is the time he has given us here. He continues to give us time but let us not take it for granted. In this time, will we be compelled by His will or by our own? Will we submit to His plans or forge our own way? Our will is a precious thing God has given. We have freedom to choose. What seeds will continue on after we are no longer here? One day the time he’s given us here will run out. Will our lives yield a hundred, sixty or thirty times what God has planted in us?