A young, new preacher was walking
with an older, more seasoned preacher
in the garden one day.
Feeling a bit insecure about
what God had for him to do,
he was asking the older preacher for some advice.
The older preacher walked up
to a rosebush and handed the
young preacher a rosebud and
told him to open it without
tearing off any petals.
The young preacher looked
in disbelief at the older preacher
and was trying to figure out what
a rosebud could possibly have to do
with his wanting to know the will
of God for his life and ministry.
But because of his great respect
for the older preacher, he proceeded
to try to unfold the rose,
while keeping every petal intact.
It wasn't long before he realized how impossible this was to do.
Noticing the younger preacher's
inability to unfold the rosebud
without tearing it, the older preacher
began to recite the following poem:
It is only a tiny rosebud,
A flower of God's design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.
The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I.
GOD opens this flower so sweetly,
Then, in my hands, they die.
If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of God's design,
Then how can I have the wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?
So I'll trust in Him for leading
Each moment of my day.
I will look to Him for His guidance
Each step of the pilgrim way.
The pathway that lies before me,
Only my Heavenly Father knows.
I'll trust Him to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose.
divinely sent
