In the warm days of May, our daughter buried some seeds in the ground. They broke, rooted, sprouted, and bloomed. And all of them have withered by now. All except this one.
I’m impressed with her stubborn commitment to life. She’s the Mark Watney of flowers. (The Martian anyone? I’m reading it now for the category “a book in a genre I wouldn’t typically choose” in Modern Mrs. Darcy’s Reading Challenge. After having so many people recommend it I figured it was a safe bet. But shhhhhh I haven’t finished it or seen the movie.)
But here by our back door, this little yellow flower gives shape to the invisible kingdom of God. She reminds me that his timing is different from mine, his ways don’t always fit my expectations, and his life remains even when the seasons change around me.
May your Monday carry hints and outlines of your true home.