Of Roses And Oregano

About four weeks ago I mosied over to the garden center with the intention of buying a new rose plant. You know, just a regular one, in some other color besides the light pink, medium pink, red and orange that I have. After several years of taking myriads of photos of these...well, I figured I was due for a new one. Now is that too much to ask? Besides, they only cost $2.45. Where in the world can you buy a rose plant for $2.45, I ask? I had to take advantage of this.

So I came home with a light pink (what...??) miniature rose and an, umm, oregano plant. No kidding. Besides being irrisistible, I liked the idea of getting two plants for less than what the one would cost. Can you believe it? I mean, I was thrilled at saving 57 cents! One just never knows what one will do when faced with difficult decisions.

Having explained all that, let me make an album of my two new plants for you.
                                                                     First day appearance...

                                     I think they like being together-the rose and the oregano.

 Look at this pink baby. Is it any wonder I couldn't resist?

                                               And she has a twin sister. Almost identical.

                               

                         This Italian seasoning, oregano, is a very pretty green plant, in my opinion.

A few days later...I would never have imagined that there were so many petals inside these babies!

 

And look, there's baby sister!

     

     A few days ago I moved the oregano to my kitchen window and the mini's to the front yard.  I love how they look against the stone wall.

    As if this wasn't enough, their beauty was enhanced even more by the rain! Breath-taking.

 

Thank You, Lord, for the beauty of these plants and for the joy that they give me.

I am blessed by Your creation.

 

"...He has done all things well..." (Mark 7:37)

My Alabaster Box

I love the Bible story (Mark 14:3-9) of the woman who broke her alabaster box and poured out her expensive perfume on Jesus. Whether it was Mary of Bethany, Mary Magdalene or some other woman doesn't matter.  The change that Jesus brought about in her life was worthy of the love and worship she unabandonly gave to Him.

I have a little alabaster box that a friend once gave to me and every time I see it I am reminded of this story. Thus I am reminded of the need that I have to give to Him the love, praise and worship that He deserves and desires from me.

What is in your alabaster box? What is in mine? What gift can we bring this Christmas to Jesus Who gave His all, His best, for us? Whatever it is, give it to Him with abandon, with love, with worship...as this woman did.

There is a beautiful song about this story, here are the words...

Alabaster Box

The room grew still
As she made her way to Jesus

She stumbled through the tears that made her blind

She felt such pain
Some spoke in anger
Heard folks whisper
There's no place here for her kind
Still on she came
Through the shame that flushed her face
Until at last, she knelt before his feet
And though she spoke no words
Everything she said was heard
As she poured her love for the Master
From her box of alabaster


And I've come to pour
My praise on Him
Like oil from Mary's alabaster box
Don't be angry if I wash his feet with my tears
And I dry them with my hair
You weren't there the night He found me

You did not feel what I felt

When he wrapped his love all around me and

You don't know the cost of the oil

In my alabaster box

I can't forget the way life used to be

I was a prisoner to the sin that had me bound

And I spent my days
Poured my life without measure
Into a little treasure box

I'd thought I'd found

Until the day when Jesus came to me

And healed my soul

With the wonder of His touch

So now I'm giving back to Him

All the praise He's worthy of

I've been forgiven

And that's why

I love Him so much

 And I've come to pour

My praise on Him

Like oil from Mary's alabaster box

Don't be angry if I wash his feet with my tears

And dry them with my hair

You weren't there the night Jesus found me

You did not feel what I felt

When He wrapped his loving arms around me and

You don't know the cost of the oil
Oh, you don't know the cost of my praise

You don't know the cost of the oil

In my alabaster box.

                              -Cece Winans