An unplanted seed found its way to our front yard this summer, taking root in my sunniest and driest flower bed. Unsure of what kind of plant it was, I let it grow. And it grew taller and taller with broad leaves and a thick, sturdy stem. Normally, I would have yanked such an intrusive plant out of my flower bed, but when I noticed the leaves were similar to my neighbor’s most beautiful maroon hibiscus plant, I waited to see, wondering if it, too,might be a hibiscus.

I did my research, hoping that somehow a seed from her lovely plant found its way to our yard. I even snuck over to her yard once or twice for an up-close comparison of her hibiscus to the “guy” who had taken up residence at our place. As I noticed buds emerging on our uninvited visitor, they appeared to be nearly identical to the buds on her hibiscus. I have coveted that hibiscus for years, and there was great anticipation to discover whether or not such a beautiful plant would grace our yard too.

Finally, in late July, the first bloom popped open. I must admit I was a bit disappointed when the bloom revealed the plant’s identity. It was not a hibiscus. It was a sunflower. Of course, there is nothing wrong with a sunflower. I was “okay” with the unveiling of identity. Still, I would have preferred to have a hibiscus.

That sunflower (shown above) continued to grow, going from the one bloom to nearly 30 blooms! It has made itself known in a very prominent manner. Other neighbors have commented on how bright and cheery it is, one telling me it makes her smile every morning when she sees it. Even my “we-don’t-need-anymore-flowers” husband has commented on the joy this uninvited guest brings him as he watches the fullness of bloom come forth. And guess what?  As of this writing, my neighbor’s lovely hibiscus has ceased its blooming season, but our new sunflower continues to decorate the yard with bright and happy yellow flowers. I have decided it was a mistake to show partiality to the hibiscus’ rich glory over the sunflower’s simple beauty.

The writer of the book of James (in the Bible) exhorts the church to stop showing partiality to the rich. He calls them out on the fact that they’d been giving preferential attention to the well-dressed and self-confident:

My brothers and sisters, you are believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ. So treat everyone the same. Suppose a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold ring and fine clothes. And suppose a poor man in dirty old clothes also comes in. Would you show special attention to the man wearing fine clothes? Would you say, “Here’s a good seat for you”? Would you say to the poor man, “You stand there”? Or “Sit on the floor by my feet”? If you would, aren’t you treating some people better than others? (James 2:1-4, NIRV)

Every Thursday, my church offers a meal, showers, Bible study, and worship service for the working poor in our community as well as those who are experiencing homelessness. I’ve served in this ministry for over two years, and I continually marvel at how God works in and among these faithful ones who struggle to get by in ways I’ll likely never know. While there are often individuals who only attend for the meal and then leave, or who come for a season and then disappear, there are also plenty who faithfully attend week after week. It is the body of Christ demonstrating the love of Christ to each other and to all who visit, if only once or twice. The kitchen servers work tirelessly to provide a healthy and robust meal. The shower volunteers labor in the hot summer sun to set up and sanitize the shower trailer for every refreshing shower.

After the meal, we worship together. Often during the message, I find myself observing these brothers and sisters I’ve grown to love. When someone is upset, others move to comfort, encourage and pray. Just last week, Robert noticed a first-time visitor—a sunburned woman who was crying (August has been hot and dry, offering little relief for those who walk the streets). He quietly reached in his pocket to pull out a bottle of lotion.  Robert walked over to her, gently asking permission to rub some sunscreen on her red shoulders. As she continued to weep, he went over again to speak words of hope and encouragement to her. I don’t know her story, but I do know Christ worked through Robert to bring comfort.

The compassion of Christ manifests itself in the simplest ways, doesn’t it? Read how James ends his exhortation:

“My dear brothers and sisters, listen to me. Hasn’t God chosen those who are poor in the world’s eyes to be rich in faith? Hasn’t he chosen them to receive the kingdom? Hasn’t he promised it to those who love him?” (James 2:5, NIRV).

So, maybe an uninvited sunflower that plants itself wherever it can find soil should be welcomed, at least as much as a well-tended gorgeous hibiscus. Maybe the sunflower’s courage and fight to produce blooms in dry, shallow ground is an example for we who have no idea what it’s like to wrestle against the odds. Maybe, the bright yellow petals of the sunflower are intended to bless those who just need to start their day with a smile. Yes, I think so.  And, while I would still love to have a beautiful, maroon hibiscus plant in my yard, I will cherish the cheery sunflower who has graced us for this season*.

* Though some sunflowers are perennial, others are annual.  This one is likely an annual, but I do hope “he” will return next summer.  The below photo was my ornery husband’s attempt to show the world how short I am. ?