For a daisy to bloom, He is the source.

A flower that is fragile.

Trust.
But I'm scared.
My knees have buckled under the weight that seems to pile on, as it increases more and more. Seemingly unending. I look out towards what is in front, but it appears that I have lost my ground. Being knocked down once again, it has become harder to stand. Except this time, the heaviness that I feel from the weight has come down on me, for it's become difficult to breathe.
My soul has grown weary.
Trust in me.
I hear, but the sound of fear becomes louder.
A worry that began as a seed has taken root. My soul has become restless.
For God, I know that all things not from You will be uprooted, but this man-made fear has come to cloud my eyes and shield my heart from You.

A flower that is drying out.

Like an overgrown weed stretching its roots and taking the nutrients that were meant to sustain me, fear has trapped me in a loop that seems to have no end as it goes round and round again.
Another day now becomes another cycle of restlessness, of which this worry seems to be sucking my life from the inside out over and over again.
Repeatedly.
Tirelessly.
I am left with nothing.

A flower that is dying.

For it overwhelms me when weakness has tipped me over. Pulling me down to a bottom that seems to have no end. Sinking deep with arms outstretched, it has become hard to pull myself back up. I cannot by my own strength.
How do I move?

A flower that is withered.

On good days, I have found a peace that comforts my soul, but on the bad days I am left curled in a ball. For the angst in my heart has weaved its way back and is rooting itself into the crevices of the pieces of my heart. It grows in the broken parts, beyond a repair that I could do on my own.
Help me God, for I am weak.

A flower under His covering; a daisy.

I cry, and He hears. Thoughts unspoken, yet still known.
He shields and protects me, for my thoughts have been contained. His presence calms me as it draws me in like a refuge.
Abundant because He is the source.
Shackles that had imprisoned me, debilitated.
Broken to pieces, so I may be made new.
I feel light as the heaviness subsides, for He is the Lord over my heart.
It is in this cycle, where I am healed, born, and renewed. Life that had been closed at the bleakness of night, begins to bloom when morning rises. For I have found joy that encircles me with warm hands. It does not fade.
His covering is safe and it is in His arms where I am met with everlasting grace and boundless mercy.

A flower that has faith.
I make a prayer that is unceasing.
Unceasing because even if everything else in this world is left in ruins, He is constant.
Constant in a cycle, it goes on and on.
I see Him all the more working in this life of mine, with a heart that has been washed, and a soul that is renewed in Spirit.
I shall not be afraid, for what more could this world destroy? For He is constant in His character, compassionate at heart, and faithful beyond time. The warmth of His embrace encircles me in an unending loop. I am not afraid, because my God brings joy to a day's toils.
So I trust.
What does fear amount to when trust has won over it all? A victory that is ever so present through the surrendering of my will. I no longer fear, for the battles that are fought have already been decided.

A flower that is small.

A daisy, because of its simplicity, for it grows in the fields and meadows.
Yet a creation that not even Solomon dressed in all his glory could compare against.
A daisy blossoms under His light, for He offers a love that does not let go.
I am small and simple: a daisy.
He cared, cares, and will care for me like no other.
In God I trust.