Pansy.

A single blue flower, a pansy, in a field of green.

A spot of difference in a sea of sameness.

An isolated collection of order in the chaos of a hundred kinds of grass, all fighting for dominance.

A simple flower with five overlapping pedals. Solid blue except for the play of light and shadow across its face.

A solitary source of nectar for passing bees, in the waves of useless leaves.

A pansy – different, order, simple, food.

But so much more. The value of a pansy can not be placed on it by these feeble descriptions.

God made the pansy. He gave it form and function. How can I put a value on what God has created?

So I take the pansy and place it in my hair.

Its presence make me feel better.

Its presence makes me look better, I think.

But does my presence make it look better?

The pansy in the field of green …

The pansy in my hair …

… has more value than I can imagine, because it shows the glory of God.

I have more value than I can imagine, because I show the glory of God.

More value because it shows the glory of God.

Value the glory of God,

The glory of God.

God.