Being a Rose

I forget sometimes that people are reading this. 
Sometimes I am simply writing out of exhaustion or relief or even excitement.  It seems that when I am overflowing, this is where I come.  At the same time, when I am empty or barely moving, this is where I find myself as well. It is not a testament of faithfulness to myself, but a coping mechanism.  
That said, I forget that there isn't a thread that combines these writings.   Reading my posts means that you are coming with me on the journey, and unlike a novel or story, they are without climax or resolution.  Rather, they swing like the pendulum they are- from healing, to devastation, from hopeful to immobilized.  It is exhausting, isn't it.  
I forget that this is a story meant to be seen from far away....like viewing the constellation from the earth, rather than telescopically studying the stars themselves.


Today, I am barely making it.  Today, my arms feel heavy with loss. Today, I am stuck, still, listening, waiting, wanting to crawl in bed and sleep...escape.  Today makes me fear tomorrow because it may mean that I am retreating....could things get worse before they get better? yes...they could.  Of course, His mercies are new every morning, and tomorrow could bring unexplained relief, peace and joy.  It is always the not knowing that makes the day harder.


My cousin bought me two roses in memory of Branson.  She doesn't know that I kill plants.  All plants...plants that read "resilient". "do not overwater." "needs minimal care."
I have not potted them yet.  I have been reading how to do it.  They have survived two storms, been knocked over, dirt spilled out, leaves blown off, forgotten for 2 to 3 days.  
Today, when I left the house, a bright pink and yellow rose, faced the sun with confidence, admiration and purpose.  She was exactly as she was created to be.  God is so pleased with this rose.  She is a survivor.  He blessed it even though it seemed to be forgotten.  


This rose doesn't symbolize Branson. This rose symbolizes me.  I do not feel like this rose today, just like I don't see what God sees when I look in the mirror.  This is how God sees me.  When I have felt forgotten, He waters me still.  
So, I will stretch towards Him, facing the Son, with confidence and admiration for my Savior.  I will reach and search for purpose, even when I feel like sinking and withering.






Isaiah 35:1 The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose.