A Trail of Roses…
“The beauty of the rose
lasts for a moment
but its memory can
last for a lifetime!
–unknown–
A Trail of Roses…
by Debbie Allen
Ever since I can remember, my heart has always been drawn to roses. Perhaps this fascination stems from my mother having shared with me as a child, that a vase of pink roses was the very first gift I ever received; after she brought me into this world. As a little girl, mom further cemented in my mind just how special roses are; the day she took me by the hand and showed me a couple of those same little rosebuds from the hospital; still pressed between two pages in my baby book. Though much too fragile for me to touch, just seeing a lock of my baby hair taped beside its faded, pink petals stirred something inside my heart that day…something I wouldn’t understand or even be aware of until decades later.
That stirring process deepened every time my grandma asked me to work alongside her in her rose garden. One day after she and I finished trimming-up all of her rose bushes, she stood watching me struggle to arrange a few loose pink buds and roses in a vase on her kitchen table. Questioning my own 7-year-old flower arranging skills, I turned and asked her, “Grandma, does this look ok?”
Without hesitation, she stooped down, pulling my face into hers; and with the world’s biggest grin, she responded, “They are just like you, my little Rosebud…perfect and beautiful!” Standing there blushing, all I could think to do in that moment was to hug…hug…hug her; for even at the tender age of seven, I’d come to know and understand just how treasured a little rosebud could be in this world; and now I’d become one of them!
Though my grandma has long-since passed away, her endearing nickname for me remains a precious gift to my heart. Even today, when I’m working out in my own rose garden; I still hear the faint whispers of her voice calling me her little “Rosebud.” That memory continues to warm my heart. It was no accident that day when God allowed the nickname, “Rosebud” to fall from my grandma’s lips down into my heart. I believe my Creator…the One Who ordered all the steps of my life and wrote them each down in His Book; already knew my life was destined to be repeatedly shaped and defined by the rose over and over again.
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The Rose exposes in its own beautiful ways; the tenderness of God’s Love for us.
“…the earth is filled with His tender Love.”
Psalms 33:5b lab
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In more recent years, the rose itself even became the defining moment of my life! By the time I reached 60-years-old, the thought of getting a tattoo began resonating in my head. This was anything but a typical direction for me to be thinking in. I was more a tea-and-roses sort of girl…not an ink-and-tatts rebel. But, with much prayer, God inspired me to blend these two opposing ideas together beautifully. I designed a wrist tattoo of a little pink rose; bearing the words “I AM His…” and the numbers “1:17” inscribed above it. My desire was two-fold. I wanted first, to convey to the world around me that “I am a child of God’s.” The number’s 1:17 are significant because they represent my life’s chosen verse: Colossians 1:17, which reminds my heart daily of this truth: “All things hold together in Him.”
For the next three years after this, every morning when I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was that pink rose tattooed on my wrist. It became for me an ever-present reminder to my heart, that I am precious and chosen by God…and that whatever else my day might hold; my God would hold me together no… matter… what. I believed these words with all my heart; or so I thought. Then, one Saturday morning, I woke up half-blind in my right eye without warning. By the end of the next day, Easter Sunday, my vision was gone in that eye! By the time I woke up on Monday morning, even focusing both eyes on my rose tattoo; I could only see half of the rose, and just two of the three words visible above it. I whispered those two words softly to myself, “I AM.” Though terrified by the thought of what was happening to my vision, I recognized there was something even more profound transpiring with my perspective. Seeing ‘I AM’ standing alone and knowing it to be the Name of God; I began to see it differently, in my unexpected darkness. This was God’s Signature across my life in this moment. His lavish way of deepening me to the reality and intensity of what it is to bear His Name on my wrist; and to be called ‘His’. I believed my Father was deepening me… telling His child, in this unwanted, unfathomable, and deeply personal way:
“Trust in Who ‘I AM’, and rely on Me,”
“I AM” … there were those words again. The words tattooed only skin-deep across my wrist for the last three years, were now descending deeper into the depths of my heart; spoken and planted there by my Father. There was no question what my part was to be in this unwanted story. My role was to ‘trust and rely’ on the One Who “holds all things together” …including me.
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“If you are walking in darkness, without one ray of light,
trust in the Lord and rely on your God.”
Isaiah 50:10 ESV
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Seven years and three major eye surgeries later now, this child of His can tell you with all of her heart, that My Father did indeed, ‘hold me together’. Not only physically and emotionally…but spiritually, too. When the retina inside my eye unraveled that day…in my human frailty, I could’ve followed suit. But my God, Whose Purposes far exceeded mine, chose to use my blindness to help me see Him more clearly. Ironic as this sounds, the little pink rose on my wrist, the one I had tattooed there to draw the world’s attention to me, and my relationship with my God; was never intended by God to point me out to anyone. Only to point me back to Him…the Great “I AM.” The One and Only Answer to all… that I am not.
Too often, most of us don’t take time to recognize some of the most significant moments of our lives. Those Divinely timed moments are meant to help define and shape us into who God designed us to be. For me, those significant moments came in the form of a trail of roses winding behind me throughout my entire life. I’ve learned to see this winding trail of roses in my heart, as God wrapping His Grace around me in every stage and changing season of my life. Now, as I look back over the memories of the roses planted there, I see roses that taught me how treasured a little ‘Rosebud’ could be in this life. I still hear my grandma’s whispers here. But now I know that even her whispers were meant to point my heart towards a Love much greater than even my grandma’s. They were pointing me to the God Who Loves me and calls me His Own.
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“Roses don’t just talk about God’s Beauty…they show it!”
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Every rose is somehow a reflection of God’s Love. Looking back over my own trail of roses, I see evidence of God’s Grace at every twist and turn. There are reflections of peace and love, joy and celebration, growth and flourishing, passion and gratitude, wonder and awe, and beauty unspeakable. But… like the rose itself, there are thorns there, too. Portions of my trail were darkened at times, by unwanted trauma and despair, sorrow and fear, pain and disappointment, sickness, and even death. In these places, I cried out more than once, “No rose could ever survive here!”
But by the time I reached the other side of those thorns; I discovered I was wrong. Every time I dared to turn and look a little deeper at those thorns… I saw the most beautiful Rose ever… planted right in the midst of what my own heart deemed too broken, and too barren to sustain life. It was the Rose of Sharon…Jesus, Himself! He was the Beauty in these despairing places. His Beauty and His Presence were planted there to bring me rescue, redemption, and restoration. Given the choice, I would’ve bypassed these thorny places; yet… at the same time, my spirit was strangely drawn here by the Presence of this Rose of Sharon, time and time again. Though weariness often prevented me from seeing thorny places as anything but shadows and brokenness… my surrendered heart soon taught me to perceive them as the Sacred Place He’d chosen to shed His Light into my darkness. To kneel beside Him in these unwanted places is where I saw my faith was expanded and my Hope enlarged. Here…I experienced an undeserved exchange. I received His Joy for all my tears… and His Wholeness for all my broken pieces.
Every rose planted along this Grace-Laced, trail of roses still growing behind me; has somehow brought me closer to His Heart. But it’s my Rose of Sharon I still cling to the tightest. His Beauty and Presence always come with the Promise of life and new beginnings; especially when we are called to walk in thorny places. Jesus is the One Whose timely Whispers brush up against His rosebuds in earthly gardens, and their tender petals begin to unfold, grow, and finally bloom in full. Likewise…the only Hope any ‘Rosebud’ on earth has of finding life, maturing, and flourishing in this world; lies in hearing and responding to the Tender Rushes of His Whispers against the petals of our own hearts. For His Whispers are His Beautiful reminders of just how treasured a little ‘Rosebud’ can be in this world…and in the next!
“God will always guide you where to go and what to do.
He will fill you with refreshment even when you are in a dry and difficult place.
He will continually restore strength to you, so you will flourish like a well-watered garden…”
–Isaiah 55:11 TPT–
Father in Heaven, thank you for filling this earth and our hearts with the Tenderness and Beauty of Your Great Love! Help us, Lord, to live making every day our love-gift back to You! You’ve spoken every day since I was born, through the Rose to my own heart. You taught me how treasured a Rosebud can be in this life. Through my own trail of roses…You’ve wrapped all the times and seasons of my life in Your Grace. Youve spoken to my heart of Beauty and Pain…Petals and Thorns…and of Sunshine and Shadow. You are in every season you call Your children to walk through. May we not just see thorns in the hard times; but dare to look deeper and see our own ‘ Rose of Sharon’ planted there in the midst of our brokenness. And like the Rose…enable us to hear and then respond to the brushes of Your Whispers against the petals of our own hearts; so that we may find at the end of all the thorns, we too, have blossomed and bloomed for Your Glory!
IN JESUS NAME WE PRAY…AMEN
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