Photo by CP |
Yesterday afternoon, on my daily walk,
I came across this rose peeking at me
over a white picket fence...
I wondered, Lord, how many millions of roses
might be in bloom right now
and how it came to pass that this creamy beauty
should take the time to catch my eye...
I suspect it's all your doing, Lord.
Clearly, you're the gardener, the artist
who brought this rose to life, to bloom,
once you'd planted it along a path
you knew I'd one day walk...
You knew you'd get my attention
with those velvet smooth pastel petals:
you knew you'd stop me in my tracks,
inviting me to ponder, to muse, to pray
and yes, to smell the roses...
I thought for a moment I might pick that rose
and take it home to a bud vase sitting empty
on the top shelf in my kitchen cabinet...
With just a little water
that bloom would last some days and nights
in my prayer room or by the chair on my porch,
keeping fresh the memory of an afternoon
when you spoke your love for me
and said it with roses...
I didn't pick that rose, Lord,
though it may have been your gift to me
it wasn't mine to own -
it belongs to those who planted the bush
and tended its growth...
And it belongs to any and all others
you might lead down this same street,
catching their eye, grabbing their attention,
speaking your gracious love for them
and saying it with roses...
Thank you for my rose, Lord,
and for the prayer its fragrance stirred
within my soul...
Amen.
Tweet
Subscribe to A Concord Pastor Comments
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please THINK before you write
and PRAY before you think!