It is amazing the power that a hollyhock had on me this morning. As I went out to get the newspaper, I already had the weight of the world pressing down on me. I was walking, I was breathing, I was thinking; but because of my preoccupation with rescuing the earth from eternal destruction and other similar issues, I was not really living—or really praying, for that matter. Then came one, brilliant moment when God disclosed Himself to me.
It happened as I bent down to get the paper. As I stretched and grunted to pick up the paper on the curb of my driveway, my eye caught sight of a single hollyhock that I had planted by our mailbox. The hollyhock had bloomed. I had previously noticed one or two yellow flowers coming out; but I had somehow missed the full, glorious blooming that had occurred. There were now yellows and reds and pinks and whites all arranged by God on huge “fig-like” leaves, sitting prettily on a couple of tall, skinny, green stalks. Now if you know anything about hollyhocks, you know they are one of those perennials that are advertised in garden magazines as “Old-Timey Plants Just Like Grandmother’s” or something like that. And it is true. Hollyhocks have a cherished place in the English cottage garden. As our forefathers and mothers came to America, they brought the seeds of those beautiful, spiked, multi-colored staple of the flowerbed with them. It truly is an “old-timey” beauty. I have noticed that there are more of them in Midwestern gardens than Southern ones. The hollyhock is one of those flowers that can evoke memories of childhood at Grandma’s house, or Sunday afternoon strolls through a park, or—for me—Vacation Bible School (VBS).
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They remind me of VBS because there were hollyhocks growing near the outhouse of New Bethlehem Baptist Church, way out in the country near where I grew up. (If you have not had the joy of using an outhouse, particularly an outhouse at a country church with VBS going on, I would love to talk with you about it sometime.) I remember that going to the outhouse was a real pleasure. Yes, that’s right it was a real pleasure.
First of all, as a child, I was amazed by a plant that was taller than I was. Hollyhocks can grow to be eight feet tall in the right conditions. Second, they were pretty and reminded me of Miss Dot, our teacher, who was (I thought) going to be my wife one day. I was 7 years old, and she was married to a banker; but somehow none of that mattered. Third, bees love hollyhocks, and there was an element of danger in going to the outhouse. It made VBS even more adventuresome.
But put it all together, and for that one moment, as I bent down to get the paper and was mesmerized by the hollyhock in full bloom, I remembered the experience of the Holy Spirit moving on my heart at Vacation Bible School. I remember how I got to carry the American flag in the daily processional before we said the Pledge of Allegiance and then the Christian Pledge of Allegiance before the Christian flag. I remember cold Kool-Aid on hot, humid days. I remember the crunchy sweetness and floury smoothness of those cookies that came like a million to a pack for 99 cents. I remember waiting for a ride home after it was over at noontime.