Extraordinary Palette

I planted seeds this year: started some in January, diagrammed a garden and followed a rigid schedule.  In my mind's eye, everything would be staggered by height and color and blooming time. It was a lovely plan. A goodly plan, as it used to be said.
The particular dahlias I longed for were out-of-stock four days after they went up for purchase, so I haphazardly, frantically, chose new ones before there were none of my fifth and sixth choices.  They sprouted before I had them in the ground and the hardier of the feeble stems grew to be trampled by a skulking garden beast or two.  Sweet peas and stock were nibbled by something smaller, while rapid growth of a tree above turned a sunny spot into something less to be desired than the full beams required by the larkspur.
All in all, not exactly a win.  
I philosophically reasoned that the seedlings had carried me through a bleak January and February and perhaps served a different purpose than the one I had intended.  Still, the palette would have been extraordinary...
However, the flower farm that shipped my brown paper package of potential also included two complimentary offerings.  Not to be wasteful, I hastily sowed them in the last portion of available soil and thought (in my grandmother's words), now we shall see what's what.

And see I did.
Because zinnias flamed salmon where no stock or larkspur or sweet pea would show a hint of their cultivated vintage hues -- abundant shaggy spheres that rivaled the dahlia strains unavailable from my top three varieties.  Those substituted fifth and sixth choices were the colors of the setting sun after a day of perfect cornflower blue skies.  I have yet to know the pigment of the final plant which is covered in buds, as yet unopened.
Most mystifying was a pod termed "Hyacinth Bean", which came devoid of any description.  As the spade shaped reddish-blue leaves flourished I wondered if that was the sole achievement of all the plant's twining and climbing effort. Never thinking to look it up, I watched the unfolding surprise as it took over more than its portion of the space.  It was sufficient in its beauty to need no flower.  
Until flowers came and it seemed as if the whole was incomplete without the sprays of variegated pinks and dainty purples that almost seemed an afterthought.

There is much to capture my heart in this unlooked for bounty -- too much of God for me to miss His love.  
He is not hindered by drought.
He is not thwarted by shade.
He is not helpless under the attack of marauders or hampered by neglect.
Instead, He brings life and beauty in the most unlikely ways.

Always.

Thus says the Lord,
who makes a way in the sea,
a path in the mighty waters...
"Behold, I am doing a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?"
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.
...for I give water in the wilderness,
rivers in the desert,
to give drink to my people, the people whom I formed for myself
that they might declare my praise.