Carnations
the life we would want if we really knew what we wanted.
I stayed up two hours past my bedtime because my husband said he wanted to eat potato chips with me at 11:20 PM. And though he got tired 15 minutes later and went to bed, I didn’t. I felt like a rebel, staying up late past my bedtime watching a movie until 1 AM.
I don’t watch TV, but once and a while I love getting lost in a movie. It’s a treat.
I love a good story.
As I type this, I’m looking at blooming pink carnations, perfectly perky, just as awake as I am.
I didn’t really like carnations before. I tend to like bouquets of muted colors, mixed flowers with delicate, dusty roses or ranunculus for a touch of playfulness, and lots of eucalyptus.
But my husband always bought me carnations. They would never be what I would pick for myself, but they’ve become my favorite flowers.
I’ll never forget the first time he bought me carnations. Over the days, they brought a vibrancy to the room, peaked open and bloomed, and suddenly became much more than a simple carnation. I started to love them. I started to pick one each day and toss it in my hair or throw it in my bag because I wanted to look at them as I went through my day. I ran the petals through my fingers each time I passed them, and left them out a tad too long because I didn’t want them to die.
And suddenly, I loved carnations. I am enthralled by how a simple bouquet for $3 can be more than enough to fill the room and brighten my house with color.
Carnations are not dull or muted, they’re colorful and fun and alive. As I stare at my pink carnations I feel loved not because it’s exactly what I would choose, but because he knew what I needed more than I did.
And though he probably didn’t realize it, he was gifting me flowers that awakened color, childlikeness, and joy in my life where I didn’t know I needed it.
Growing up my favorite color was pink.
That, of course, was all too generic for a little girl, so I quickly changed to blue. Blue could be sophisticated, and calm.
But I realize now why I loved pink. Pink is bold, but fun. It makes you smile, and it invites beauty and femininity. I realize now that little Lisa loved pink for all those reasons. And I didn’t realize til now I needed to love it again. I need to be bold and fun and smile. I want to lean into beauty and femininity.
But I didn’t quite get there until my husband bought me carnations.
Often, I want a fancy dinner, but he plans a night of building forts, full of laughter.
Sometimes what I want is an intentional conversation, but instead, we watch Star Wars.
And somehow, it’s perfect. It’s always what I need, but never what I thought I needed.
Ever since middle school, I found myself writing my own biography in my head as I kicked leaves walking home from the bus stop.
But I’ve struggled when the story doesn’t go the way I wrote in my head.
I love setting up and creating these beautiful moments, a picnic with a basket listening to birdsongs, a walk to the farmer’s market, and stopping at the coffee shop on the way. When they get disrupted, changed, or rearranged sometimes I get so flustered I don’t know what to do with myself.
But what my marriage has shown me is that there’s an author writing a better story than I could.
I did love carnations, but I just didn’t know it yet.
Maybe behind the pockets of disappointment and frustration are the things I actually need.
Maybe God knows what I need more than I do.
