I'm standing in front of my beautiful white Weeping Cherry, and I tell my neighbor, "I wish the blooms were pink."
Pink is so glamorous, so very Spring. Pink has always symbolized energy, love, zeal, and beauty. Instead, I have a white Weeping Cherry. Boring. Usual. Pure, but bland.
"If only it were pink like some of the others!" I shake my head and go inside. That very night, a storm passes through the valley, and I wake up to a pink Weeping Cherry.
Has some magician come in the night? Really, the rain and wind turn the blossoms down. The weight of it transforms this tree from the inside out. The once white blossoms hang low, closed for the season.
Pink signifies the end. It means the tree submits to the storm. These blooms will fall by tomorrow.
I consider what it means to want something. I wanted pink, but I see now so very clearly the great cost of it.
You lose something in the getting.
God shows me this with every unfulfilled dream. He sees what I'd lose in the getting. He sees what would fall.
If I don't have pink, it's because of what I'd lose in the getting. Thank you, Lord, for the bright white blossom.
Have you found this to be true?