I’ll admit…I’ve always had a soft spot for weeds.
As a little girl I made wishes on them. I painted with them. I collected them. I gave them as presents. I studied them. I pretended with them. I imagined with them.
And as I looked today out our window I was mesmerized by the beauty of the weeds popping out in color against the blue grey of the sky before the afternoon spring storm rolled in. I looked upon our very own meadow growing in our own backyard and thought of all those suburbanites killing their lawns with toxic poison.
I thought of all the children who would miss this childhood opportunity of mingling with the weeds.
I was glad mine would not be counted among them.
One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.
And I like to think of Jesus seeing us that same way…not a noxious weed to be eradicated but a beautiful wild flower that, when planted where we were meant to grow, flourishes under his care.