Roses or Thorns?

"Some people complain that God put thorns on roses,

while others praise Him for putting roses on thorns."

We have had a week from hell and though deep down inside I would like nothing more than to spend the next thirty minutes complaining and bemoaning my most difficult life...I am instead making a very  personal choice to embrace all the opportunities that were presented to me this week to find a rose amongst the thorns. 

Through my rose colored glasses I have compiled an account of all the occasions I was given a chance to fill my garden with roses. Make no mistake that behind every rosy musing in the following list there was a thorn that pierced my heart... and left behind a scar as thorns often do.

My Rose Garden

Starbucks always has special holiday coffee mugs
for sale just in case one gets broken.

I still have eleven perfectly lovely pictures
hanging on my walls downstairs.

There were no trips to the ER this week for stitches
...Or for the removal of shards of glass from our feet

...Or concussions.

I can now write a testimonial for The Otterbox
and it's ability to protect an Ipad
as it is hurled through the air...ricocheting
off the TV cabinet and crashing onto the hardwood floor.
Thanks Otterbox for truth in advertising.

Hair regenerates.

  Allergy season is upon us...Yea!
All red, puffy, watery eyes are
automatically attributed to pollen.

I finished painting a bedroom in about the same
amount of time it took Michelangelo to
paint the Sistine Chapel.

Leaving all chores and tasks undone for
an entire week does not cause
the earth to stop spinning
on its axis.

Every single object that fills our home is just stuff
and can be easily replaced.


 Brief moments of quiet are meant to be cherished.

I now realize that Facebook has so much more value
than just a place to post snappy little quotes,
celebrity news,animal videos, sports trash talk,
our latest Scrabble score,
political or religious statements
that will no doubt offend someone,
 and of course the ever present need
to post what we had for lunch.

It can be a place to reach out to a group of people who
are living the same life we are...exactly.
It can be a place to cry out for help in a crisis
and find comfort and to be consoled.
It can be a place to be lifted up in prayer.

I witnessed my sweet daughter, Sarah Rose,
show compassion, kindness and understanding
 far beyond anything I have ever taught her.

Our very own much searched for Mary Poppins (Leah) 

did not run screaming and horrified from our garden

 ...never to be seen again.

 Instead of horror I saw tears of empathy, 

compassion and grace in her eyes.

 

As I sit finishing this post
Scotty and his friend Leah are
sitting quietly on the floor together
composing silly songs on his Ipad about pizza...
 laughing...laughing...
And in the laughter...a small bud of hope

So each day I will try the best that I can to navigate my way through the brambles that are threatening to take over our rose garden.   Always hoping to keep the prickly thorns from inflicting too many devastating stabs that pierce our hearts and wound our tender spirits...Always searching for the precious blooms contained within its barbed stems.

A garden requires patient labor and attention. 

Plants do not grow merely to satisfy ambitions 

or to fulfill good intentions. 

They thrive because someone expended effort on them.

L.H. Bailey

(American horticulturist and botanist)