The flower offered of itself
And eloquently spoke of God
In languages of rainbows
Perfumes, and secret silence…
Almost comically what brought roses to Texas began with a “slow boat to China,” as it were. The Chinese had been cultivating roses for over 5,000 years. Then during the early 19th century, ships of the East India Company brought the repeat-blooming China roses back from the Orient to Europe. Once there the Europeans bred the China roses with their once-blooming roses. Eventually progeny of the old China roses, the once-blooming European roses, and their hybrids were brought to the Americas by the early settlers. However as time passed, the public grew to have a greater desire for the more modern roses, and nurseries stopped offering old roses. Thankfully in the last couple of decades there has been resurgence of interest in the old garden roses, and they are readily available to the public again. In my garden most of the roses are the old ones. They are much hardier, and I love wondering what roads they must have traveled to get here, but the best part is that in every season my roses of antiquity speak eloquently to me in their “languages of rainbows” more and more distinctly of God, His love, and His faithfulness.
May the rose and all else that God made
offer freely of themselves
and speak eloquently of God.
May their secret silences be broken
so that they call out His name for the masses to hear.
May their perfume permeate every corner of the planet
with the heady aroma of Grace.
I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. -Genesis 9:13 ✝
Despite doubt or hopeless turns of mind, you are not broken.
Spirit surrounds, embraces, fills you from the inside out.
Release everything that isn’t your true nature.
What’s left, the fullness, light and shadow,
claim all that as your birthright.
A door opens. Maybe I’ve been standing here shuffling my weight from foot to foot for decades, or maybe I only knocked once. In truth, it doesn’t matter. A door opens and I walk through without a backward glance. This is it, then, one moment of truth in a lifetime of truth; a choice made, a path taken, the gravitational pull of Spirit too compelling to ignore any longer. I am received by something far too vast to see. It has roots in antiquity but speaks clearly in the present tense. “Be,” the vastness says. “Be without adverbs, descriptors, or qualities. Be so alive that awareness bares itself uncloaked and unadorned. Then go forth to give what you alone can give, awake to love and suffering, unburdened by the weight of expectations. Go forth to see and be seen, blossoming, always blossoming into your magnificence. ~Danna Faulds
The Spirit of God has made me; the breath of the Almighty gives me life. ~Job 33:4 ✝
A rose is the visible result
of an infinitude of complicated
goings on in the bosom of the earth
and in the air above.
Oh most venerable rose of primordial antiquity,
how beautifully you sequester countless, ageless secrets
within the elegance of your perfumed petals sweet!
Again today I find myself wondering
what it is that you might say, could you but relate
all that in your making lay concealed from mortal man.
Would you, could you, speak of God and man and time and place?
Or does such remain cloaked in mystery as does all else,
only to be breathed, merely to be inhaled, and
solely to be hinted at in your divine scent?
Perfume and incense bring joy to the heart, and the pleasantness of a friend springs from their heartfelt advice. ~Proverbs 27:9 ✝