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A young, new preacher was walking with an older, And more seasoned preacher in the garden one day. And feeling a bit insecure, About what God had for him to do. He was inquiring of the older preacher. The older preacher walked up to a rosebud, And handed the younger preacher a rosebud, And told him to open it, Without tearing off any petals. The young preacher looked in disbelief, At the older preacher! He 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 his ministry. Because of his 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 it was to do! Noticing the younger preacher's inability, To unfold the rosebud, while keeping it intact. 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, Isn't Known to such as I.
The flower God opens so sweetly, In my hands would fade and die.
If I cannot unfold a rosebud, This flower of God's design.
Then how can I think I have wisdom, To unfold this life of mine?
So, I'll trust in Him for His leading, Each moment of every day.
And I'll look to Him for His guidance, Each step of the pilgrim way.
For the path that lies before me, My Heavenly Father knows.
I'll trust Him to unfold the moments, Just as He unfolds the rose.
I thank my cousin George from Arizona, for sending This poem to me in an email. Thank you Georgie!
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