Time to Blossom

Sermon: June 7, 2026 . Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of San Dieguito

I have a chicken coop with four chickens. They are all hens as the city of Oceanside does not allow roosters in backyard coops. Recently, however, one of my chickens has begun cock-a-doodle-doo-ing. We gave it a little bit of time, thinking it might just be a phase. When it became a parent that it was not, we sent this note to our neighbors:

"Hello neighbors, we are writing to let you know that it is our chicken Gretchen, who is crowing every morning. She is the biggest chicken in our coop and has also taken to pecking at her sisters to keep them in line. It appears that in the absence of a rooster, she is taking on some extra responsibilities. In this age of gender fluidity, we support Gretchen in her desire to be a rooster, but we do not support her crowing. We continue to research options to see if a change in her environment will change her behavior. At this time, it looks like she’s pretty confident in who she is. If Gretchen’s crowing bothers you, please don’t hesitate to reach out. We appreciate your understanding and are happy to provide you with fresh eggs anytime Gretchen‘s crowing is getting to be a bit much. Your neighbors, the Megills."

Now, I don’t share this story to poke fun at gender fluidity, but because it struck me as an apt metaphor for a parent’s journey when their child is going through a period of transition. First you notice presentational changes, posturing changes. They wear different clothing, they wear their hair differently, they cover up more of their body, or less of it, they don’t seem comfortable in their skin. And then they tell you who they are, and instead of believing them right away, you wonder if this proclamation is really going to stick. Life is long and people change. Part of you is proud that your child is comfortable enough with you to share this, and proud that they are going to be honest about who they are. And part of you is scared that they will be treated with cruelty and misunderstanding. So you stay in that place for a little while, watching your child create their future. Eventually, everyone settles into a new normal and you begin to see your child flourish. Their new body brings them much needed comfort, they seem less depressed and anxious, they relax a little about how they posture and begin again to wear the clothing that they like the most, not the clothing that they think will help define their gender for the rest of the world. They begin living for themselves and as a parent your confidence returns. As Elizabeth Appeal says, “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” I was honored to witness my son blossom. 

This isn’t everyone’s journey, but it was mine, and I wanted to share it today since we’re entering pride month. 

Regardless of whether you know someone who celebrates Pride Month because of their own personal journey, this is a time when we can all stop and reflect on the beauty of our own individual uniqueness. Flowers grow to different heights before they blossom, they blossom at different times of the year, in different temperatures, in different colors, in different amounts of sun, in different shapes, with different scents. We don’t judge flowers for how they blossom. They blossom the way they need to. 

I encourage you to think about how you blossom. What do you need to become your best, freest self? How can this community support you on that journey? How can you best support others? 

How can we blossom together?

OTHER READINGS FOR REFLECTION:

Cassandra Mackenzie Wood (CM Writer)

"Like a flower, you too have the ability to bloom in unexpected places. Embrace your unique journey and watch yourself flourish."

Travelers Upon the Earth

By Elizabeth M Strong

Enter into the communion of flowers with joyful hearts.

Enter with reverent thoughts.

It has taken long months beneath

cold ground for these flowers

to prepare their blooming.

It has taken each of us long times of growth

through sorrow and joy

to prepare for our living now.

The blooming season is short,

The flowers stay only a brief time.

We are travelers upon the earth:

travelers through all to brief lifetimes.

Therefore let our moments be bountiful.

Let us rejoice in our unique colors, aromas, and sounds.

Let us celebrate together in love;

that as we travel away, we take with us

the memory of golden hours together among the flowers.

A Bouquet of People

by Claire Feingold Thoryn

Let us give thanks for a bouquet of people.

We give thanks for children. Like tulips and iris, they multiply around us, making the world ever more filled with color, beauty, and new life. May we bless them as they replant themselves ever further from us, knowing that they need their own space to grow into.

We give thanks for generous friends, as constant in bloom as echinacea and whose gifts lift up our body and spirit.

We give thanks for feisty friends as indomitable as geraniums,

and for continuous friends, who, like bittersweet and ivy,

hold on and never let go…and can never be gotten rid of.

For crotchety friends, as prickly as rosebushes; their beauty a secret that is only discovered through careful gardening.

For surprising friends, who at first glance seem dour and then blossom into joy as quickly as forsythia.

For funny friends, silly as snapdragons,

And serious friends, complex as chrysanthemums.

For comfortable friends, their gentle presence as soothing as the sweet smell of lilacs.

For stormy weather friends, who stand by us in hard times, like lily of the valley that cannot be deterred by shade or shadow.

For old friends, nodding like sunflowers in the evening-time

And young friends coming on fast as phlox.

For friends as unpretentious as dogwood,

as persistent as pachysandra,

as steadfast as azalea,

and who, like snowdrops, can be counted on to see you through the winter and remind you that spring always comes.

For loving friends, who wind around us like wisteria and embrace us, despite our blights, wilts, and witherings,

And, finally, for forget-me-not friends, gone but never forgotten. Their beauty lives on in our memories and hearts.

For this bouquet of people, who brighten our lives each in their own way, we give thanks.

Amen.