“No matter how hard he tried, the roses would not bloom—but
it was one of those summers.”
Have you ever felt like this? You feel like you’re giving it all you’ve got, but nothing’s working. At a certain point you feel absolutely hopeless… but maybe the next day, you feel better and yesterday’s hopelessness seems ridiculous. A young man I know once told me that every breath he took belongs to God—that every breath I took belongs to God. He told me that even if I put my all into what I was doing (at that time, that was speech and debate), if I did not give it all to God completely, I would not succeed. And success, when you have given everything to God, doesn’t matter.
Of course, I felt like I understood Him right off. But I didn’t. I didn’t understand it until it happened to me. I had three weeks before a tournament, and I intended to practice this speech out of its misery until it was perfect. Then I got the most embarrassing disease in the world—a walking cold. I kept on thinking to myself: “Really, Karis? Really?” It wasn’t even a flat-on-your-back cold. It wasn’t even a two-sniffs-in-the-morning-then-fine-for-the-rest-of-the-day cold. It was a walk-five-steps-then-sit-down-from-exhaustion-and-stare-at-your-homework-and-only-understand-a-quarter cold. And since I’m a dunce, I didn’t get it until later. When I was at the tournament (all the sudden better from my cold), I realized what had happened. Everything belongs to Him. Not just praying at the beginning of the speech year to give it all to Him. Not just praying for the whole tournament and giving it to Him. God doesn’t settle for what’s most important to you—He wants everything. Because He owns everything!
That means, thanking Him every time I realized I’m breathing free, every time I realize I’m going through a trial, every time I come up to a competition room, every time I talk to someone—because I don’t know what that someone is going through. Thank Him for every friend I have. And even—every enemy.
I learn slowly, as I said before. I want to trust God, but it comes hard to me. On the back of my door I have six bright red construction papers with words written in black sharpie stuck up. They remind me of what’ really important—I’ll post what they say (and what they mean) here, so perhaps, Lord willing, they’ll help you as well. I like to call this my "It" list. This will be the first of a series of posts in which I will go in depth about each "It".
Clean it
Like it’s your pregnant sister’s room
Fold it
Like it’s your sick friend’s laundry
Do it
Like it’s your exhausted brother’s dishes
Reach it
Like you can’t miss the mark
Love it
Like it’s an Angel sent from Heaven
Live it
Like it’s Jesus’ life.
There is a children's story that I thought was just lovely. It's called "The Sleeping Rose". Last year, I thought of it as a cute story about a silly farmer with a Christian punch at the end of the story-- now it means sooo much more.
In the story, there is a farmer named Baldrick Macklin. He tends this beautiful rose in his garden that only blooms once a year, but when it does, it is most beautiful. The King hears tell of this rose and sends Baldrick a notice that he is to bring this rose to the King's May day celebration. Baldrick, getting excited about this amazing opportunity, and enthused with new dreams of grandeur (imagine me, a King's gardener!), rushes out into the garden to care for his rose (Anybody relate to this?). The first thing he sees is an old beggar reaching out to stroke the rose. He sees the dirty hands-- and shrieks
"Get out!!! Have you no consideration? This is a right royal rosebud! OUT!!!"
The beggar sighs, and turns away, but before he leaves, a single tear falls upon the rose's closed bud. "OUT!!!" Baldrick wipes the dirty tear off, weeds the flower, and tends it with all his gardener might.
To me, I see this part of the story having two reminders. First, how often am I doing something, or on my way to doing something, so important that I don't enjoy the people around me, or give a little of my 'precious' time to make someone smile? Second, how often do I let God into my life on Sundays and Bible study nights, but when it comes to something too precious to lose or to have help with, I say 'Get out! This is a right royal rosebud!'-- when ironically, He is the royalty... not the rosebud. Back to the story.
Three days before the May day celebration, the Rose has not yet bloomed. Baldrick comes in nervously and asks his family what he should do. His wife tells him to give it a little drink because it's 'a wee bit thirsty'. The next day, he comes in anxious, and his wife tells him to warm it with his cloak. The last day, Baldrick comes in wild with anxiety-- "Heaven help us!" he cries, "TODAY is the celebration, and the rose has not bloomed!!!" As his son offers the idea of him bringing the rose inside, 'for it must be a wee bit lonely', Baldrick cuts him off. "How could a rose be lonely? A rose has no more feelings than a rock, a tree, a beggar passing by..." Baldrick stops. "A beggar. The beggar cried. The beggar... CRIED!" He rushed out.
He searched high and low for that beggar. He abandoned all thoughts of his rose. He searched in low meadows, and climbed over verdant hills thickly laced with vines. At last he found the beggar shivering in his sleep under a tree. He brought the beggar home, gave him clothes, and fed him at his table. At the last, he collects the sleeping rosebud, his wife and children, and the beggar, and departs to the celebration.
At the celebration, the King is disappointed in Baldrick-- but the beggar steps out of the crowd. The rose blooms-- and all at the celebration wonder at it's marvelous beauty and radiant scent. Baldrick turns to the beggar to thank him-- and the beggar, placing his hand on Baldrick's shoulder, says "Baldrick, anytime you are kind to a stranger you are kind to me." As the stranger turns to leave, Baldrick wonders at the stranger's parting words-- and the tender touch of the man's nail-scarred hands.
Sometimes, when I grow desperate to succeed, I will do silly things to help myself, losing sight of what's really important. What is the most amazing part of this story to me, is the beauty and wonder put into illustrating the rose... but at the same time, it's not the most important part of the story.
Grace and Peace to you all in Jesus Christ.
Until we write again,
Karis
There is a children's story that I thought was just lovely. It's called "The Sleeping Rose". Last year, I thought of it as a cute story about a silly farmer with a Christian punch at the end of the story-- now it means sooo much more.
In the story, there is a farmer named Baldrick Macklin. He tends this beautiful rose in his garden that only blooms once a year, but when it does, it is most beautiful. The King hears tell of this rose and sends Baldrick a notice that he is to bring this rose to the King's May day celebration. Baldrick, getting excited about this amazing opportunity, and enthused with new dreams of grandeur (imagine me, a King's gardener!), rushes out into the garden to care for his rose (Anybody relate to this?). The first thing he sees is an old beggar reaching out to stroke the rose. He sees the dirty hands-- and shrieks
"Get out!!! Have you no consideration? This is a right royal rosebud! OUT!!!"
The beggar sighs, and turns away, but before he leaves, a single tear falls upon the rose's closed bud. "OUT!!!" Baldrick wipes the dirty tear off, weeds the flower, and tends it with all his gardener might.
To me, I see this part of the story having two reminders. First, how often am I doing something, or on my way to doing something, so important that I don't enjoy the people around me, or give a little of my 'precious' time to make someone smile? Second, how often do I let God into my life on Sundays and Bible study nights, but when it comes to something too precious to lose or to have help with, I say 'Get out! This is a right royal rosebud!'-- when ironically, He is the royalty... not the rosebud. Back to the story.
Three days before the May day celebration, the Rose has not yet bloomed. Baldrick comes in nervously and asks his family what he should do. His wife tells him to give it a little drink because it's 'a wee bit thirsty'. The next day, he comes in anxious, and his wife tells him to warm it with his cloak. The last day, Baldrick comes in wild with anxiety-- "Heaven help us!" he cries, "TODAY is the celebration, and the rose has not bloomed!!!" As his son offers the idea of him bringing the rose inside, 'for it must be a wee bit lonely', Baldrick cuts him off. "How could a rose be lonely? A rose has no more feelings than a rock, a tree, a beggar passing by..." Baldrick stops. "A beggar. The beggar cried. The beggar... CRIED!" He rushed out.
He searched high and low for that beggar. He abandoned all thoughts of his rose. He searched in low meadows, and climbed over verdant hills thickly laced with vines. At last he found the beggar shivering in his sleep under a tree. He brought the beggar home, gave him clothes, and fed him at his table. At the last, he collects the sleeping rosebud, his wife and children, and the beggar, and departs to the celebration.
At the celebration, the King is disappointed in Baldrick-- but the beggar steps out of the crowd. The rose blooms-- and all at the celebration wonder at it's marvelous beauty and radiant scent. Baldrick turns to the beggar to thank him-- and the beggar, placing his hand on Baldrick's shoulder, says "Baldrick, anytime you are kind to a stranger you are kind to me." As the stranger turns to leave, Baldrick wonders at the stranger's parting words-- and the tender touch of the man's nail-scarred hands.
Sometimes, when I grow desperate to succeed, I will do silly things to help myself, losing sight of what's really important. What is the most amazing part of this story to me, is the beauty and wonder put into illustrating the rose... but at the same time, it's not the most important part of the story.
Grace and Peace to you all in Jesus Christ.
Until we write again,
Karis
