STORIES

THE ROSE IN A VASE

It was a simple rose
beautiful
in color and dimension
but simple

It stood tall and strong
in the vase
looking for sunlight
waiting for the fresh water

It waited on the dry days
for a touch of water
and on the dark days
for a ray of sunlight

It knew not
that there was anything
more
It knew not
of anything beyond
the basic comforts
the basic ingredients
the basics of life in a vase

The days were the same
day after day after day
until one day
a young face appeared
It was the face of a child
full of wonder ~ full of delight
The child gazed at the rose
and commented,
"Oh how pretty!  I want to touch it!"
But the mother scolded
and said,
"No, it would lose its beauty
things of beauty
are not
to be touched"

The child would come
day after day
and gaze at the rose
His little nose pressed up
against the petal
trying to absorb its smell
The child would even close his eyes
and imagine
being on a whole hillside
of roses

The rose
not used to this attention
would shy away, at first,
and pull back its petals
to protect its beauty
to protect its little world
~~~~

But now
what had happened?
This rose now looked forward
to this young child's touch

It looked forward
to being told
that it was pretty

It looked forward
to feeling
the small child's breath
on its petals
Even more than
sunshine and water
It looked forward
to the touch
the touch
of love
~

Will we let
GOD
invade our small world
of basics?

Will we let
Him
come and speak words
of love
and beauty over us?

Will we let
Him
come and gaze at us
in our frailty?

Will we let
Him
come and breathe
His Breath
upon us?

Are we afraid
of losing
our beauty
of independence
that we have
so carefully groomed?

Are we afraid
that we will realize
our need for Him
even more once
He touches us?

Will we
look for Him
to come into our world
and make Himself known
in only the way
that He can?

Will we
look for Him?

Will we
welcome
His Touch
of
Love?

Will we
let Him
take us out
of
the vase
and
hold us close
to
His Heart?

ASK
Him to
He will!
He surely will!


VIII