I haven't posted any flowers in a long while. Here is one of my favorites.
This was my dad's Crown of Thorns plant. It covered his desk, sprawling over his workspace, soaking up the sunlight on the south side of his office, where the sun shone most brightly.
Under this plant's ferocious gaze, Dad chatted on the phone, buying used hospital equipment like X-ray machines, Geiger meters and pancake probes and ultrasound machines. He would load the heavy machinery up from metro hospitals, clean, repair, refurbish, and resell. He loved that job. It somehow gave him so much joy to take what someone considered "junk" machinery, and to work with it and recondition it and make it something valuable. He frequently sold to hospitals in impoverished areas, or to countries that otherwise would never be able to afford something as expensive as an ultrasound machine. He followed up with service plans, because he knew each machine so well, and kept them in good working order. He took "junk" and helped save lives with it.
When Dad passed away, I took his thorny plant home.
It's in my studio now, and still sprawling, covering the desktop, producing thousands of thorns and occasional tiny red drops of flowers.
I like this plant's daily reminder that somehow, God does the same kind of job that my dad did so well. God takes the thorns and the garbage and "junk" of my life, and with his tender care, he makes it into something worthwhile. He knows my faults, he can correct them. He knows my brokenness, and somehow, he can find a place for me anyway. He knows that someone, somewhere needs me...
And so he turns me into something valuable.
Thorns and all.
This was my dad's Crown of Thorns plant. It covered his desk, sprawling over his workspace, soaking up the sunlight on the south side of his office, where the sun shone most brightly.
Under this plant's ferocious gaze, Dad chatted on the phone, buying used hospital equipment like X-ray machines, Geiger meters and pancake probes and ultrasound machines. He would load the heavy machinery up from metro hospitals, clean, repair, refurbish, and resell. He loved that job. It somehow gave him so much joy to take what someone considered "junk" machinery, and to work with it and recondition it and make it something valuable. He frequently sold to hospitals in impoverished areas, or to countries that otherwise would never be able to afford something as expensive as an ultrasound machine. He followed up with service plans, because he knew each machine so well, and kept them in good working order. He took "junk" and helped save lives with it.
When Dad passed away, I took his thorny plant home.
It's in my studio now, and still sprawling, covering the desktop, producing thousands of thorns and occasional tiny red drops of flowers.
I like this plant's daily reminder that somehow, God does the same kind of job that my dad did so well. God takes the thorns and the garbage and "junk" of my life, and with his tender care, he makes it into something worthwhile. He knows my faults, he can correct them. He knows my brokenness, and somehow, he can find a place for me anyway. He knows that someone, somewhere needs me...
And so he turns me into something valuable.
Thorns and all.
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