Even the roses have their place

I have a rosebush in front of my living room window. I hate it. I should have nothing against flowers that grow with no attention from me whatsoever. 

But:

-I hate the scraggly, leggy canes. 
-I'm not a fan of pink. 
-Nasty weed vines grow around the base.
-They grow behind shrubs and are nearly impossible to access or care for. 
-They are against the house, and in a storm they scrape the siding.
-When I do try to trim them back, they poke me.


I asked Strider to take it out this year, but other things took precedence and I just stopped worrying out it.  But this summer we got used to something.  A hummingbird (I'm assuming the same one) comes to that window every day to visit.  Well just to visit the rosebush, not me, but I love him.  As a kid I remember seeing a hummingbird was like the rarest experience, and I now see one every day.  And it occurred to me that I only get to have this little pleasure because of the rosebush I hate so much. 


I have decided to enter that blanket I wrote about yesterday into our state fair next week.  (I better get movin'!) About a week ago someone (a kid?) pulled on one of the yarn rows and bunched up lots of the stitches.  The cloth was misshapen and I had to tear out a ton of stitches to fix it.  I was very grumpy.  How is undoing work going to help me finish the project I am hurrying on? 

As I was fixing it I noticed a critical mistake I'd made on the next row over.  I was immediately humbled with the realization that if I'd not been fixing the bunched stitches I would most likely have turned in this hard work for judging without noticing this glaring error.  I'm so thankful I was shown in time to repair it.

And yet another example is found in the radiator problems we had in the van a few weeks ago.  It happened on a local, impromptu trip.  If we had not taxed the van that day going up the canyon, it probably would not have blown till the next time up a canyon...on the way to our more expensive, planned camping/swimming trip a few days later.

And I suppose that's the challenge of mortality.  There is so much good to be found in life.  Much of it only reveals itself till it's exposed in the midst of trials.  Wouldn't that be so mature of me to see adversity as a true blessing?? For it surely is. 

My spirit has much growing up to do.  After enough experience I hope I can learn to love the roses even though they are not ideal.  I love that little hummingbird and I want him to stay, thorns and all.