[“Is it okay to still have children?” Ocasio-Cortez asks. Blythe Pepino — lead singer of the British band “Vaults” and outspoken polyamorist (It’s a thing. Look it up!) — believes no and thus, is moved to action — bringing to life “Birth Strike,” an organization that breeds fear in the face of climate change. But I believe there’s a greater message in creation — namely, one delivered by daffodils.]

For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth. For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For His invisible attributes, namely His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse... (Romans 1:18-20 — ESV)

Winter’s barely exited when daffodils make their appearance on Spring’s stage — erupting like bursts of sunshine from horizons of green, still often blanketed with white. These narcissists know they have their one annual opportunity — born from bulbs buried below, blooming once, they go — until this orb called Earth makes its turn again around the sun.

Perhaps they talk amongst themselves. “Beat the forsythia,” they say.

“We rise before the bud is on the rose,” they boast.

“Only a thought are the lilacs,” they laugh.

Though indeed haughty, they’ve discovered something, these daffodils. They’re on to truth and won’t be detained. The ground can’t keep them down.

It matters not that scientists speak of climate change. Global warming, though they’ve heard the warnings, doesn’t frighten them. They spring forth just the same — in late February, early March.

They get their one chance to make a statement. To testify, “We’ve been set free from our bondage — constrained in a bulb, buried under earth. We burst forth bearing God’s message: ‘Don’t believe everything you hear. Though things are not as I intended, one day all will be made right.’ Yes, all shall be well.”

This, the daffodils’ prophecy.

But is it so? Can such truth be delivered by those who arrive when it’s barely spring — awakened from hibernation to silently herald what Paul wrote to the Romans with bold words? The daffodils make no sound, yet they proclaim an audacious message from hillsides and ditches, along highways and hiking trails. They’re not afraid, insecure or self-conscious. Trembling not from timidity, they waltz with the wind. Uninhibited are they.

These seemingly fickle flowers are, in truth, tenacious — faithfully worshipping none but their Creator, though sadly for only a short time. Because not even so fine a thing escapes sin’s curse, and since The Fall, all are affected. Yes, even these fleeting flowers — infected, injected with the enemy’s evil egotism, but unlike mankind’s vanity, come April, daffodils’ amour-propre is but a memory.

“Don’t dig us up,” they tell the gardener. “Despite the dangers of environmental change, please don’t discard our bulbs — the life source from whence we’ll come again. Instead, wait with hope.”

Yes — that’s, in part, the message of the daffodils. It’s what they desire we hold onto until they come again. In their own simple way, silent to the ear, they speak to the heart — and for a greater purpose than that one merely smiles at their memory, counting down the days until their return.

No — the message is more. For many.

For throngs of anxious couples who question whether or not to start a family, the daffodils sing —

Children are a heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is [their] reward (Ps. 127:3).

It’s for thousands of fearful mothers — many who are single — carrying babies and wondering what the future holds, for them and for their children. The daffodils whisper God’s promise through His prophet Jeremiah —

For I know the plans I have for you… to prosper and not to harm you, for good and not of evil (Jer. 29:11).

For Blythe Pepino and those who follow her movement — originated and continuing in fear — these flowers boldly and passionately proclaim —

…do not be anxious about your life, what you’ll eat or what you will drink, nor about your body… Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin... (Matt. 6:25-27).

And [Jesus] said to them, ‘Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?’ Then he rose and rebuked the winds and sea, and there was a great calm (Matt. 8:26).

Then the daffodils conclude their round, singing again to all who will listen —

Children are a heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is [their] reward (Ps. 127:3). Amen. Amen.

Yes, I believe the daffodils have a thing or two to say, especially to those who breed fear in the hearts of others — to one or to many, the audience matters not. To those who claim to be banning babies from being born — who likely promote a justification for abortion because a humanistic worldview would certainly say it’s better to kill a fetus than allow him or her to grow and be born into a world so war-torn by potential weather change.

The daffodils — narcissistic as they are in their not-yet-redeemed state (They have no souls, after all.) — would demand answers from these “Birth Strike” soldiers…

“Are we not worthy to beautify the world — though born from homely bulbs to live only a short time; always at the mercy of the weather, doomed to die with one cold snap over which we have no control? Such beauty means nothing?”

“O ye of little faith,” one can almost hear them cry.

And yet, they won’t be stopped. They’re not on strike, though gone they may seem. They’ll rise again to new life — year after year. Though held captive in Earth’s cold ground for a season, they’ll not harbor resentment but herald resolve. Can you hear them — their greater message, not stemming in fear?

“O me of great faith,” they proudly proclaim.

They are narcissists, after all. At least for now, though not forever.

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now (Romans 8:18-22 — ESV).