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February 10, 2011

She held the phone up to my ear and the sound of Texas began to play. No one more country than Dolly. She sang to me as if it were a spring day in the wildflowers of Texas.

Pinky’s mom sat there so content, humming to the song. We had not spoken much since we had arrived in Manipur. Her spirit was heavy with grief, but when she sung there was a lightness about her. She coached Erin Unni on the sewing machine while she held the phone to my ear.

Being from Texas, I should have recognized this song, but it was playing in my ears for the first time. Listening to the words, I felt as though the Lord was giving me a glimpse of myself and how He made me. I felt nostalgic for home and yet, I was so happy to be living overseas and traveling in India.

The breeze blew gently and the sun-rays streamed onto the porch. I could not have been happier.

There was something special about that moment– that moment when I felt this woman’s grief and she felt my nostalgia. The Lord comforted us both.

The Lord showed me that day– while on a porch in Manipur with a woman I hardly knew– that truly, I am a wildflower.


“Wildflowers” by: Dolly Parton

The hills were alive with wildflowers

And I was as wild, even wilder than they

For at least I could run, they just died in the sun

And I refused to just wither in place

Just a wild mountain rose, needing freedom to grow

So I ran fearing not where I’d go

When a flower grows wild, it can always survive

Wildflowers don’t care where they grow

And the flowers I knew in the fields where I grew

Were content to be lost in the crowd

They were common and close, I had no room for growth

I wanted so much to branch out

I uprooted myself from home ground and left

Took my dreams and I took to the road

When a flower grows wild, it can always survive

Wildflowers don’t care where they grow

I grew up fast and wild and I never felt right

In a garden so different from me

I just never belonged, I just longed to be gone

So the garden, one day, set me free

Hitched a ride with the wind and since he was my friend

I just let him decide where we’d go

When a flower grows wild, it can always survive

Wildflowers don’t care where they grow

One Comment leave one →
  1. spitonthestreet permalink
    February 12, 2011 4:56 am

    Beautiful. God. Touching. Heart. Open. Devine.These are the words I thought of when reading this post.mel

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