She’s not showy like a Vanda or Cattleya. Not outstandingly beautiful, or even gifted with beautiful sprays of tiger-colored Brassia blossoms. She’s just a “marsh orchid,” a “Brassavola Nodosa.”

Her leaves are spiky little green sticks. Her creamy white flower averages one inch wide, and is shaped like a concave heart with little white tendrils shafting off into nowhere special. She grows high in the trees and is fairly common from Brazil to Florida. Nothing special.

Till nightfall.

When dark takes over, she takes on a new personality, transforming her world with a fragrance to make a Parisian perfumer take the deepest breath of his professional career. “Like sandalwood mixed with cloves, and a hint of mint” one admirer says.

Doña de le noche, they call her in Costa Rica. The lady of the night. Like one of God’s happy practical jokes, when the world is darkest, this plain orchid becomes the most powerful draw in the forest.

God must take special pleasure in bringing out His best when our times are the worst. He stands beside us, arms piled high with flashlights, waiting for us to walk into a dark valley. His promises are packed with hope:

I will be beside you. Even after the last light has gone out (Matthew 28:20).

When your tongue is tied, I will give you eloquence (Luke 21:15).

I will give you victory, and many will call on your wisdom (Revelation 2:26).

My peace will help you sleep like a baby. No troubles. No fears (John 14:27).

Your tears bring me running—with warm blankets, cool drinks, and open arms (Matthew 5:4).

Last night I sat on our back porch, as close as possible to the Doña Nodosa that blooms on our table. She’s beautiful!

… with just a hint of mint.

Dick Duerksen is the assistant vice president for mission development for Florida Hospital in Orlando.