Faith Blooms in Its Own Season

“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” — Matthew 5:16 (NIV)

While visiting Nanay Lavador, she told us about a flower field located behind the mountain. Intrigued by the thought of seeing roses in such a remote place, we set out early the next morning. We were unfamiliar with the area and nearly lost our way. The journey was difficult, but the anticipation of seeing the flowers kept us moving forward.

When we finally arrived, the owners were not particularly welcoming. They asked us not to take photographs for posting online because they believed that photographing the flowers could cause them to wither. They were understandably cautious with strangers, and at first, there seemed to be little opportunity for conversation. Still, we decided to stay. We spoke with them, offered free blood pressure checks, and eventually offered to pray for them. Only Kuya Dayon agreed to have his blood pressure checked.

Before we left, he told us that they harvested their flowers every Friday. We offered to help, and they welcomed us. That simple invitation became the beginning of a relationship. The following Friday, we returned with bihon and some snacks. By the time we arrived, the roses and chrysanthemums had already been harvested. Since we were late, they taught us how to bundle the flowers into dozens, and we worked alongside them.

Afterwards, we ate together, talked, and gradually became more comfortable with one another. Before leaving, we prayed with them again. They invited us to return the following Friday, and we did. The next week, we arrived to find a birthday celebration taking place. There was plenty of food, including lechon, but what caught my attention were two whole native chickens prepared specifically for us. They knew that we did not eat pork, so they had made sure there was food we could share with everyone.

They even prepared the pancit using chicken ingredients. By that simple gesture of thoughtfulness, I was deeply touched. They were not Adventists, and we had different beliefs, yet they were learning to understand and respect ours. They even asked us to pray for the birthday celebrant. They even asked us to pray for the birthday celebrant. Before we left, they gave us flowers for our church and invited us to come back again.

By the third Friday, something had changed. The people who initially seemed distant now welcomed us like family. And that's when I began to understand something about faith: Perhaps faith is like the flowers we found behind the mountain."You cannot force a flower to bloom." A flower has its own season. You can water it, care for it, give it sunlight, and protect it—but you cannot pull its petals open with your hands.

It blooms when the time is right. I realized that hearts are the same. When we first met them, I wanted to share our faith. But God slowly taught me that sometimes, the first step in preaching was simply becoming a friend. Our presence was the watering, our prayers were the sunlight, and every meal we shared, every flower we harvested, every conversation we had, and every Friday we returned was another drop of water on a seed God had already planted. And just as every flower has its own time to bloom, every heart has its own season to discover God.

Name: Jessie May S. Taan

Mission Field: Danao City, Cebu