|I don't have purple hair, nor do I style it the way this pretty little thistle head|
has, but if I did, this is what I'd like to look like. And yes, I know that's weird.
We're living in a new house which we love, but it's at the end of a road in a rather new sub-division which is still undergoing aggressive construction. We're the last house on the road at the moment, so the land past our house (to the left as you're looking at the house) and behind it is vacant. I like to tell people we live on the edge of a nature preserve because the rabbits, geese, and who-knows-what-else make their homes there, but in truth, it's just vacant land piled high with dirt, chunks of trees, and other rubble the construction equipment has shoved aside to clean up another day.
The little beauty above is a thistle weed and it's growing on the piles of dirt and rock surrounding our house. I can't get to it without risking life and limb (thank goodness for zoom lenses), but if I could, I'd gather a few for a colorful bouquet.
It's amazing to me how something as lowly as a common weed can be so beautiful, yet have such little value when compared to the more acceptable flowers we slave over (and pay good money for) in our gardens. If God had never given us anything but the "no maintenance, grow anywhere" weeds to satisfy our desire to beautify our surroundings, we would be hard-pressed to complain. Take a few thistle heads, some Queen Anne's lace, dandelions, and the wild variations of asters, daisies, and a host of other flowering "weeds," and you've got a luscious, colorful bouquet of God's love for us displayed in even His most modest of creations.
I wonder how often we overlook an individual because they seem common. If God can love the weeds on this earth, how much more does He love all of His children--young, old, pretty, homely, rich, poor, in good health or bad, black, white, brown, red, yellow, pink, or orange--who cares?
He cares. For all of us. For the hybrids, the old standards, the lush, the wild, the rare, the plentiful, the run-of-the-mill, the powerful, and the weak. Which one are you?
See you along the trail...