This week I found myself standing over my beautiful purple flowers, now beginning to wilt. Their petals were drooping, their strength fading yet somehow, they were still stunning. The purple still glowed. The softness still invited a closer look. Even in their down-trodden state, there was beauty.
It struck me as a simple but powerful reminder:
Even in broken moments, there is still beauty.
Even in seasons where God is pruning, refining, or breaking things off of us, there is still goodness worth praising Him for.
Jesus said, “Every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit” (John 15:2). Pruning doesn’t feel pretty. Wilted seasons don’t look strong. But they are part of a holy process, one that leads to deeper life.
Those purple flowers reminded me of a few things:
1. Purple is the color of royalty. (I know I have said that a few times) Even wilted, they carried royal beauty. It’s a picture of the truth that our identity in Christ is not based on how strong we feel, but on who He declares us to be.
“You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood…”
—1 Peter 2:9
Even when life bends us low, our worth doesn’t change.
2. Wilted doesn’t mean worthless.
The petals drooped, but they did not lose their purpose or their story. Sometimes we think our “less-than” moments disqualify us, but God often does His deepest work in the places that feel like they’re fading.
“A bruised reed He will not break, and a smoldering wick He will not snuff out.”
—Matthew 12:20
God draws close to weakness. He handles us gently. Wilted is not wasted.
It struck me as a simple but powerful reminder:
Even in broken moments, there is still beauty.
Even in seasons where God is pruning, refining, or breaking things off of us, there is still goodness worth praising Him for.
Jesus said, “Every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit” (John 15:2). Pruning doesn’t feel pretty. Wilted seasons don’t look strong. But they are part of a holy process, one that leads to deeper life.
Those purple flowers reminded me of a few things:
1. Purple is the color of royalty. (I know I have said that a few times) Even wilted, they carried royal beauty. It’s a picture of the truth that our identity in Christ is not based on how strong we feel, but on who He declares us to be.
“You are a chosen people, a royal priesthood…”
—1 Peter 2:9
Even when life bends us low, our worth doesn’t change.
2. Wilted doesn’t mean worthless.
The petals drooped, but they did not lose their purpose or their story. Sometimes we think our “less-than” moments disqualify us, but God often does His deepest work in the places that feel like they’re fading.
“A bruised reed He will not break, and a smoldering wick He will not snuff out.”
—Matthew 12:20
God draws close to weakness. He handles us gently. Wilted is not wasted.
3. Breaking seasons are often birthing seasons.
The old petals fall so that new growth can come. In our spiritual lives, God removes things not to harm us but to heal and prepare us.
“Behold, I am doing a new thing… I will make a way in the wilderness.”
—Isaiah 43:19
The wilted seasons are often the threshold of the new.
The old petals fall so that new growth can come. In our spiritual lives, God removes things not to harm us but to heal and prepare us.
“Behold, I am doing a new thing… I will make a way in the wilderness.”
—Isaiah 43:19
The wilted seasons are often the threshold of the new.
4. There is always something to praise Him for.
Even as my flowers faded, there was beauty to be seen—color, texture, reminders of what once bloomed. And in the same way, God invites us to look for His goodness even here.
“I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth.”
—Psalm 34:1
Sometimes praise is whispered through tears, but it still counts. It still carries power.
So yes, there is much to learn from flowers.
Especially the wilted ones.
They preach a gospel of hope, identity, renewal, and resilience.
And they remind us that God sees beauty in us even when we feel bent and tired.
He is still working.
Still pruning.
Still bringing forth something new.
Even as my flowers faded, there was beauty to be seen—color, texture, reminders of what once bloomed. And in the same way, God invites us to look for His goodness even here.
“I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth.”
—Psalm 34:1
Sometimes praise is whispered through tears, but it still counts. It still carries power.
So yes, there is much to learn from flowers.
Especially the wilted ones.
They preach a gospel of hope, identity, renewal, and resilience.
And they remind us that God sees beauty in us even when we feel bent and tired.
He is still working.
Still pruning.
Still bringing forth something new.
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