I had the privilege of serving on The Vineyard’s prayer bus during the last 24 Hours to Love Our City. This year, the bus made three stops throughout Mishawaka and South Bend in its two-hour shift, volunteers spreading onto the streets to pray. One of the stops was the Mishawaka City Building on Lincoln Way West. I and forty others split off, wandering sidewalks and parking lots, pouring prayer over our city leaders, law enforcement, families, teachers, and children going back to school. Mishawaka (not far from where we got off the bus) held a lot of memories for me, good and bad. I was praying for the disconnection of things that no longer matter – for freedom from the past, stronger identities in God. I prayed this for me and for others in our communities.
As it was reaching the minutes we needed to get back to the bus, I was struck by a sight beneath the city lights. Daffodils were blooming, even though it was well past an hour we should all be asleep. Some were broadening upward, some bending low, some budding, but all were bright golden yellow, softly waving at night. I was caught by them, staring a while. I felt God giving me thoughts and words and wondered what daffodils represented. Before I got on the bus, I touched one’s petals, felt its nighttime dew already, wiped it away, and whispered goodbye.
On the bus ride to the next location, I looked up some symbolism of the daffodil and the following poem poured into my phone notes. It’s funny where God chooses to show His face, and how He chooses to speak. That night it was in the daffodils, and in the loving prayers of the Vineyard on the streets of our city. This poem He gave me was an encouraging reminder of all the new beginnings that are possible … if we endure in Christ.
Tonight I Prayed for the Daffodils
Tonight I prayed for the daffodils,
their sunshine eyes still smiling.
Some were closed and poised, waiting;
some open and receiving fully my words of love.

Lord, it’s like they don’t know it’s time -
11 pm, and we are both still awake…
But He says there's something to learn here;
something the daffodils whisper back.
The time I've been speaking of is actually Rebirth,
new beginnings -
It may be dark now but their golden glow
Is winking back, hints of hope and joy.
The closed buds hold potential; I am dying for them to open!
But it’s only almost time.

Daffodil bulbs can survive over a century — like me!
…if I learn.
But every season we must grow – bud, bloom, and bow –
Dying a little to live in Him.
Starting over to learn again.

I wipe a dewdrop tear from a petal as I say amen,
As my own slides softly between my lips.
I kiss the flower and it kisses back,
A prayer said. A lesson heard.

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