A Roseless Rosebush

Happy Tuesday, my friend!

Do you like flower gardens? I love them—I love the way they look, the way they smell, the way I feel when I’m in them. I love all the colors and the shapes and unique-to-each-type qualities each one possesses. But, dang it, anyway, I don’t like to garden myself. It’s too hot outside. My back hurts just thinking about taking care of the little buggers. Pull up weeds? Who wants any part of that? I don’t know nuthin’ ’bout trimming and fertilizing, preventing pests from invading, both minute and large, replacing soil, thinning and culling. Ach, du Lieber! I can’t be bothered with all of that.

And so I must admire other people’s flower gardens. That I can do, and I do well.

I was recently out in California visiting our daughter and her family in their new digs. They live in Los Angeles, not too far away from Pasadena. All I knew about Pasadena was that the Rose Bowl occurred there, complete with a parade and football game.

As I strolled around Maria’s neighborhood, I noticed several rose bushes in people’s yards. It made me realize that I hadn’t seen a rose bush in a long time. I don’t see them typically in yards down here in the tropics. Maybe there are some, but I haven’t seen them.

Like the lion is the King of the Jungle, I think the rose is the King of the Flowers. I feel like the rose is the “boss flower” of all the other flowers out there. You can’t boss roses around like you can, say, daisies. Don’t get me wrong, I love daisies, but they’re just not as assertive as roses. If you give someone a dozen red roses, that’s saying a lot more than giving them a dozen daisies.

Back to California. So on my last day there, Maria and I decided to go to Huntington Gardens in Pasadena. Maria hadn’t been there yet. There was a library filled with antique books, two buildings stuffed with so much artwork, a restaurant, a gift shop (of course), and more gardens than we could possibly get to in one day. I can wrap up my assessment of that place in two words: Holy Moly!

We decided to make our way to the Japanese Garden, but first, we had to wind our way through the Shakespeare Garden (yes, please!), and then we would be (or not to be) in the Rose Garden.

OH, HAPPY DAY! We get to walk through some bossy roses first!! I was thrilled!

Again, I must repeat my phrase as mentioned above: Holy Moly! But I wish I could add, “The flowers were so beautiful!” But I can’t—because there were no flowers.

NO flowers.

Oh, there were rose bushes, alright—rows and rows of rose bushes. But, instead of seeing red and pink and yellow and white blossoms on these bushes, there was nothing but lopped-off sticks covered in thorns. They had all been trimmed back recently, and blooms wouldn’t be back for a few months. No one was posing in front of these “posies” for a selfie, I can tell you that!

I did not leave disappointed, though. There was plenty else to see at Huntington Gardens. But the bald-headed rose bushes gave me food for thought.

Even though those plain old sticks were unadorned with beautiful blooms, they weren’t dead. They were still growing. They were doing what they were supposed to be doing, even though there wasn’t much to show for it. People walking past them wouldn’t give them much regard. There didn’t seem to be anything special about them at the moment, but work was still going on in those thorny sticks.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I feel like a bald-headed rose bush. Nothing seems to be happening on the outside. I haven’t published a bestselling book. In fact, I’ve made no progress for eons toward that end. I seem to do the same things day in and day out, and before I know it, another week has passed, and I don’t seem any more “fruitful” than last week, last month, or last year.

But just because there’s nothing new showing on the outside doesn’t mean life isn’t happening on the inside. I’m still learning, still growing. God continues to work on me and in me as long as I’m still here.

Sometimes, after a long period of wondering, “What am I supposed to be doing right now? Nothing is happening!” I’ll look around and think, “Wait a minute. I am in a different place. I have changed. I have grown.” I just didn’t see it while it was happening.

If you ever feel like a rose bush with no bloom, take heart! You’re a work in progress, and if you woke up this morning and are reading this, God isn’t finished with you yet!

Just keep going. You’re growing!

Written with love – – – Patti XOXO

 “That is why we never give up.

Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day.  

For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long.

Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever!  

So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather,

we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen.

For the things we see now will soon be gone,

but the things we cannot see will last forever.”

2 Corinthians 4:16-18