So, yeah. That’s been the view outside pretty much all week it seems. Hardly conducive to the fair that’s in town, the baseball games we were scheduled to play, and just about everyone’s mood in general. I’ve passed most of my time this week suffering on the couch with a sinus infection, walking around resetting all of the digital clocks in the house because of weather-related power outages, and threatening to shave my head because the wind, humidity, and rain just does wonders for a head full of naturally wavy hair that I insist on using a flat iron on each morning.

The sun is supposed to come out today. I sure hope so, because grey is not my best color.

As a little girl, I often passed the time during the weekly church sermon by drawing pictures on the church bulletins (and even my own Bible!! *gasp*), crawling under the pews, sleeping, or flipping through my mother’s Bible.  I remember my mom had a dried flower pressed between the pages and I thought that was the neatest thing.  I don’t know what the significance of that pressed flower was, and still do not to this day, but it was something that fascinated me and I didn’t dare disturb it.

Fast forward thirty years or so and it seems someone else in our family has discovered that flower.

A couple of weeks before we moved, E.B. came running to me on the patio to show me a tiny flower he had picked just for me.  I’ve received many a flower in my lifetime, but any weed or wildflower this baby brings me just puts them all to shame.  It always will.  He was so excited because we had to save this flower.  “Save it, Mama!!”.

He then ran to my bedside table and picked up my Bible, opened it to a page and placed the tiny flower offering there.

He then shut the Bible tight and instructed me to “leave it there and don’t touch it!”.

I think it’s amazing that the flower in the Bible caught his attention, just as it did mine at the age he is now. 

I know exactly where he learned it from, and that makes me treasure this little flower even more.