Morning coffee, a rocking chair at the window with a view of the kaleidoscope of colors, and all is forgiven—all is well.
The fifty-foot line of zinnias shouted, “Repent!” A shameful joy to behold. Pride said, “These are lowly common flowers. Their stalks and leaves are rough and scratchy, their flowers have no smell, and they are just papery—not exquisite or exotic.” But they are cutting flowers and can be easily dried. Yet still, they are not the magazine elites—although I once saw a feature with them in front of a white picket fence, and it was impressive.
When sweet memories of my Aunt Rena came floating through, I saw her flowers and her with the garden hose, watering a beautiful, colorful mass of zinnias in her flower bed. How I loved her pretty flowers.
Repentance was brought on by memories of my aunt, and I bought zinnia seeds, bricked a fifty-foot water break, plowed up a twelve-inch strip along it, and planted my seeds. Some white picket edging pieces on the back side of the flower bed topped off the vision. I watered and watched, I worried and repented again for my snobby attitude, I apologized to the seedlings, and they grew. They bloomed and brought butterflies, they brought a great splash of color, and I hoped Aunt Rena was pleased.
The Lord’s mercies are new each day, and forgiveness always awaits our repentance. He gives a clean heart and clear eyes to see His beauty and inhale its peace when we lay down our prideful attitudes.
Let the zinnias of conviction in your life give you a fresh look.
(Photo courtesy of pixabay.)
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