Roses dried

I always find dried roses to be a prettier decoration than the fresh ones - more effort goes into the drying, and it's only the really special ones that are dried.

My sister Michelle was right - dried roses are beautiful, in such a quiet and serene way. When roses are alive and in water, their petals slowly open, the color grows very vibrant and then, one day, the color starts to fade, the corners tinge dark brown and curl, and each petal falls off, one by one. . .

Such is the story of a lovely bouquet. It always begins so beautiful, but beauty fades.

But I threw out the roses tonight. I have roses from bouquets past. Bouquets of all sorts - from courtship, from engagement, from my wedding, and from the past two years (shy a few weeks) of marriage.


I washed a cookie rack, shaking off the crumbs from cookies made by my hubby, cleaned some other dishes and felt satisfied about this day.

Emotions, mute homeless man, a kind vendor I shunned with horrible rudeness, shame and frustration, conviction and repentance, rain, the love of my husband 1500 miles away, the thought of being alone for the next couple of weeks, my sisters . . .

All these things random speak of the ways that the Lord continually reminds me that He is faithful . . .

You are probably wondering, what the heck is she talking about???

Just life after a really good day.

All these things random come together to make a day sweeter, deeper, richer.

I cannot ever make sense of this life. It is altogether too wonderful and too exciting.

Psalm 139:17

How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!

Yesterday was filled with sorrow and tears. Today God filled an empty cup overflowing.