I was sitting on the porch a few days ago, taking in the breeze and trying hard to focus on absolutely nothing. In the winter, Hubs and I pulled our porch railings off and mused at how nice this was.
“We’ll be able to see more of the roses this way,” Hubs said.
It was a funny thing to say in the middle of winter, but that’s how Hubs thinks: ahead.
Since our porch is pretty low to the ground, it doesn’t require railings. Seeing the porch in a whole new way was awesome. And now that summer is finally here (practically) and the roses have come in, it’s feeling especially lovely.
Today I noticed the roses and thought how much they are like people. The bush is a community. And each rose, each leaf, each tiny part has a purpose that makes the entirety of the rose bush stunning. I was so thankful, looking at the roses, and even more thankful to notice how much I loved the entire bush: the green, oval leaves, the brilliant blooming pink petals, the buds not yet ready to open, but eagerly preparing themselves, and even the dying buds. Truthfully! I love the tactile process of deadheading– it’s so satisfying, though I can’t explain why.
Everything about those beautiful rose bushes amaze me. This year, I had to move one of the five we keep. I uprooted it and did a pretty poor job of the task. And yet….the bush is slowly growing in its new spot. And next year, it will be nearly back to itself. Not quite, but well on its way. I know this. Because plants are resilient and roses are as tough as they come.
I’m so thankful to have learned at least a little about plants to know what to expect each year. And some years, when a bloom is not performing, or a plant needs something else to help guide its growth, I know how to help, and I know that even if conditions aren’t perfect this year, there will always be next year.
All of this makes me think of life. Those roses are so much like people. And what’s pretty cool is this: it’s possible to love every bit and every part of something. Because each part of the bush serves a critical function to make the entirety as beautiful as it is.
I’m not much of a religious person these days. But if there is a “God” or some kind of master creator, I’d like to think she planned things this way: to give each part of a greater whole some incredible purpose, merely to create beauty and wonder. I’d like to think there is some force out there that loves everyone, no matter if they’re a rose or a thorn, because they all work together to achieve something magnificent.
I’d like to think there’s something down inside of me that can love everyone, from petal to thorn, because we’re all working together in some mystical, unexplainable way.
Thinking these thoughts brought me peace this week. What about you? What brought you peace? Share the peace.
4 the Love of Peace 