I found a beautiful patch of this blue-eyed grass while I was out walking a week or so ago. They are tiny, delicate flowers and easy to miss on their long slender grass-like stems as they mingle in a sea of other less showy grasses—but aren’t they exquisite?! They are really members of the iris family, but they remind me of spring crocuses with their pointed purple-striped petals and bright starry golden centers.
This week I went walking by the same spot again and stopped to look for them—but they were faded away and gone. I couldn’t even manage to find the empty stems! How glad I was that I taken pictures of these fleeting beauties when I did—and I was sharply reminded of truth this line from Isaiah 40:
“The grass withers, the flower fades…”As I searched in vain through the grass, I walked past a great boulder that has been there for as long as I can remember, unfazed by cold or heat or any battering of the elements. It’s dependable presence struck me as comforting in the moment—and then I realized what an appropriate contrasting illustration it painted of the rest of that verse:
Flowers of the field, here today, gone tomorrow.
The Word of God, like a rock. In all the fleeting uncertainty of this life, what a comfort that is!