There is definitely something to that old saying, "stop and smell the roses..."
There is something so calming, so inviting and alluring about a rose.
Place it in any room of the house and it changes the entire atmosphere. It makes its ordinary surroundings somehow feel not so ordinary anymore.
The roses in my front yard are nothing short of a miracle. They have transformed many a drab day into something to be enjoyed, something to be cherished.
I don't know about you, but when God was handing out green thumbs, He forgot to give me one.
Yep, my thumbs register a "zero" on the green factor. But you would never know it if you passed by my house. My yard is lovely. (All credit goes to my mother-in-love).
And I am so thankful for my roses. They bloom in abundance. They are that special kind, that rare breed of roses that grow in harsh conditions (i.e. my pink thumbs). They are hardy, strong, resilient, yet delicately beautiful. My roses bloom continually, selflessly. They share their beauty with the world, unveiling themselves petal by petal, unafraid to be vulnerable. And their aroma fills our hearts.
I know people like that. Like roses.
And their sweet fragrance reaches all the way to Heaven.
To our Father's heart.
Dear nienie, you are such a rose.