My rose bush produced one measly flower this year, yet in the forest, untended and uncoddled, the wild roses bloom freely.
Sometimes I fret and rush about trying to make things grow when and where I decide they ought to, when really I’m not in charge at all. I can’t force relationships to bloom when and where and how I want them too either.
The roses in the woods remind me that Jesus said, “Which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to this span of life?”
“Instead, seek his kingdom and all these things will be added to you.”