An old horseweed,
Growing in a meadow.
Towering above the blossoms,
Of morning glory’s beauty.

Placed here by the Creator,
In this field of dreams.
As I considered His purpose,
No benefit it would seem.

Appalled at my appearance,
What benefit could I share.
I couldn’t understand,
Why God had placed me there.

Stretching towards the heavens,
A blemish I would be.
But God foreseen a trellis,
Tender vines ever clinging to me.

Surrounded by sheer fragrance,
Wisping through the air.
Adorned with delicate flowers,
No other place would compare.

Fix your eyes toward heaven,
On the bright and Morning Star.
Submit and He will use you,
Just as, and where you are.

                                                    Ted D. Reese    
                                             August 1997