I am such a sucker for flowers. I am that mom. You know the one. I would go to great lengths to pull over the car when my kids were small so we could pick wildflower bouquets. I used my best MIKASA crystal vase to ensconce dandelions or other assorted items others would probably dub weeds. But what are weeds anyway?
Ralph Waldo Emerson describes them this way:"What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have never been discovered."
I do try to appreciate beauty in what others may overlook.
Now, don't get me wrong, I do love a bunch of matching flowers in a special vase (sounds like paws) as much as the next gal, but something in this little heart of mine goes pitter patter when a messy handful of wild blooms gets thrust my way. Fewer of these make it into my house now that my kids are all teenagers, but my response is still the same for the spontaneous gesture of flowers. I love them! Not once does it cross my mind that the value of these wildflowers is any less than those of the store bought sort.
God created each of us with different talents, different gifting, and obviously with very different exteriors. I don't want to get caught in the trap of what people look like or putting value on the book's cover alone.
I spent many years worrying about what people thought of me and focusing on my exterior alone as the measuring stick for my significance and worth. God has had a huge project in me. Yet He chose to transform me. He was ruthless in some ways and gentle in others. This has been far from a pain free process, I can assure you.
However, the One Who knows me best and loves me most has not taken one break since I chose to follow His plan for my life back in 1980. Now that doesn't mean I haven't tried to climb off the potter's wheel when He sculpts, shapes and molds me to look more like what He created me for all those years ago.
I still have days ( as recently as today) when I just want the refining process to be easier. I want the struggle to be simpler. I want to feel beautiful in spite of the chipping away that sometimes leaves me with visible scars and an altered image that can appear somewhat shocking to those who have gotten used to it.
At any rate, I think I have an affinity for those "weeds" because I so identify with their dubious worth to the untrained eye. I am so grateful I am instead seen by the Creator whose eye continuously zeros in on my value, my worth, and my potential because He sees and knows the purpose for which He made me.
I think I will go take one more whiff of that lovely red flower floating in a bowl on my counter before I head off to bed. My 14-year-old son still sees how happy those humble gifts make this mama. I hope he never forgets. (Makes me melt). Head on over here for more great writing.
On His Adventure~