To Hurt a Rose
To cause pain. Literally, to grow a beautiful rose, one has to take a knife to its roots to transplant it to a better place. And, to do this, you have to score the root and slice it diagonally and sharply so.
It’s kind of like us, don’t you think? My dad was planting a few red roses in plastic cups, potting soil, little bits of water. The roses, drooped and sorry, must have been thinking, “Why in the world would you take me from my comfort zone, my beautiful bush where I produced my flowers? I can’t understand why I’m in a plastic cup . . . in this small space. I feel trapped. And, you hurt me.”
But, little does the flower know . . . it was destined for a bush all its own, in a place that needed the exuberance of a rose’s touch.
God does the same to you and to me. Yes, He allows hurt, He allows pain. He allows the questions, the deep wonderings of your hurting soul to cry out. And, all we really have to do is trust that He knows. He knows what’s happening. He knows what He’s doing. He sees something we don’t. He sees the result. And, in that result, the scorching pain that sears through your roots is not as long as the eternal result. God is more concerned about the health of the soul than the emotional or physical comfort for the moment. So, exchange your pain for the crown of thorns, looking to Jesus who knows. He bears it with you.
So, in the end . . . you have to hurt to grow.
Just look at that beautiful rose that came from that horrible thorn. You can’t hardly see the thorn now, can you?
You’re not alone. God has planted you by those that need encouragement as much as you. 2 Corinthians 1. He is the God of encouragement that comforts us in our troubles so we can reach out to others and see their hurt as Jesus empathizes with us. God is just that cool.
A Night To Watch The Stars
Night comes . . .
Slowly . . .
Gently . . .
Like a comfort, a blanket fall
i
n
g
upon your toes to knees to expectant nose . . .
Across your eyes . . .
it roams . . .
Dancing fireflies . . .
light the skies . . .
Capture-worthy . . .
take note prithee . . .
A still wisp, a chuckle of a breeze whisks by through the rustle of the hushing lush leaves . . .
Cool . . .
Retelling stories of the sky and how it gleams so gray these days and ev’nings spun so by and by . . .
Breeze . . .
at ease . . .
A heartbeat creeps, pulses in fingers drawn taut to please . . .
No moon . . .
s’too soon . . .
Look up and ponder the artist’s brush . . .
Leaves fill the sky like starlight . . .
So bright . . .
Squint and the swaying branches dance to an unheard melody of far away . . .
rhythmic beats catch the breeze inside, at bay . . .
Look down around and blinking away the blurry trees resumes to focus the life of a dusk all abloom in us . . .
Dreams must feel this way . . .
fully hazed and still falling in motion to be saved . . .
a haze of ways so long . . .
blurry dreams and wishes like a song . . .
A whisk, a breeze like cars to pass . . .
This is a night to watch the stars gleam like glass.
Early mornings
God got me up early this morning . . . to see His majesty.
Beautiful doesn’t even describe how much warmth and glory exudes from Him.
The sun spritely waves its length across my face, and how warm and chilling these rays sink into my bones. Solitude.
Have you ever experienced solitude with God? It’s more than a picture perfect moment where silence reigns. It’s a silence from your heart that really fits the puzzle. Rest in your mind, relax in your heart, let loose your tension in your muscles, and wake your ears to hear the sound of God’s cooing voice – the voice of a small whisper . . . like a dove . . . yet powerful.
His words whisper to you throughout the day. But, do you ever take the time of solitude to realize what He’s saying to you?
I sat on the back steps, washed in sunshine, trying to put my mind at ease. Dogs barking, cars whirring, birds chirping . . . in the background. But, what’s at the forefront of my mind? My eyes close . . . sunshine sears behind my lids. Speak Lord, for Your servant is listening . . . is hearing . . . is waking my ears to wander into Your words.
Solitude.
Sunshine.
Rest.
Refresh.
Rest.
Sunshine.
Solitude.
Ireland/Australia…ahh, no place like it.
Absolutely gorgeous…These landscapes provide the perfect setting for a short story, don’t you think? Of a little hoipe on an adventure, or even a small boy searching for a water horse in a loch…what mysteries await in the depths of Australia down under or the aisles of the loch?
