My roses have not been pampered this year. No Alfalfa Meal. No Worm Gold. No Mills Magic Mix. Some are acting like rebellious children. They're pouting, and I don't blame them. I have been a Bad Rose Mama.
Others are blooming their heads off, despite my neglect. They are evidence of God's grace.
Belinda's Dream, shrub
Angel Face, floribunda
Victorian Spice, floribunda
Yves Piaget, hybrid tea
I have been focusing on my kids. In the grand scheme of things, children are much more important than roses. Roses are temporal; children are eternal. This is what I remind myself when I'm feeling guilty about my roses.
Like roses, children flourish with attention and streams of Living Water. Cultivating the soil of their hearts to be tender and teachable is a work of prayer. Add praise and thanksgiving to fertilize the soil. Observation and diligence are daily necessities. Prune the unproductive. Pull out weeds. Watch for thorns!
And when the blooms lower their heads, gently lift them upwards to face heaven.
Jonathan
Elizabeth
Daniel
Thank You, Lord, for the gift of my children. I am blessed.
Prayer for Our Children
Amy Carmichael
Father, hear us, we are praying,
Hear the words our hearts are saying,
We are praying for our children.
Keep them from the powers of evil,
From the secret, hidden peril,
From the whirlpool that would suck them,
From the treacherous quicksand, pluck them.
From the worldling’s hollow gladness,
From the sting of faithless sadness,
Holy Father, save our children.
Through life’s troubled waters steer them,
Through life’s bitter battle cheer them,
Father, Father, be Thou near them.
Read the language of our longing,
Read the wordless pleadings thronging,
Holy Father, for our children.
And wherever they may bide,
Lead them Home at eventide.
Happy Mother's Day!
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