Domains for Sale -

I walked twice today– once in the morning and then again this evening. In that short time, wild prairie roses opened up along the roadway’s edge. They were beautifully tucked in and hidden close to the ground among the tall prairie grass and clover. The soft pink hues and the sweet light fragrance never cease to amaze me—and ultimately remind me of God’s grand design. But hidden just below the soft, fragrant petals of the open rose is a prickly stem with many tiny thorns.

I have always been fascinated by nature. I love it. As a child I would sit outside for hours—literally blistering in the sunshine. I wasn’t bothered by it. I can remember my mom scolding me and moving me into the shade to play—but soon—I would be back in the sunshine playing happily. And when I was old enough to “explore” the farm on my own—I would go out on adventures. I would spend hours following the gullies and ravines down to the creek. I would walk down to the old Mulberry tree and cross over onto the neighboring farm where I would explore the pasturelands and forests. Even today I thoroughly enjoy the outdoors. I don’t want to miss God’s grand design or His handiwork.

As I walked along the old country road today, I noticed the wild roses. I couldn’t help but be delighted in seeing them again. I was reminded of my childhood. As a kid I loved the wild roses and wanted to pick every single one of them. They smelled so good! But with my first attempt at picking one, I soon discovered the stinging pain waiting just below the surface of the soft and tender pink petals. I can still feel that sharp, pin-pricking pain in my fingertips to this day. When I pulled my hand away, I had several stickers and splinters in my fingertips. A normal person would have given up after such a warning from the wild rose—but not me. Determined to have one, I went in search of the garden clippers, pulling and plucking the splinters and thorns from my fingers as I went. Luckily for me, with the garden clippers was a pair of gardening gloves—how handy! Thusly armed, I went back out to the field full of daisies, prairie grass and wild roses to cut a bouquet of flowers. I remember how the summer day filled my senses and spurned me on to capture some of the wild outdoors to tame and to bring inside. I made way back and knelt down by the roses and began to clip. The thorns still managed to “prick” me through the thick skin of the gloves. Vaguely aware of the nagging pain, I continued to clip them, determined to have a bouquet of roses. When I felt that I had clipped enough, I noticed a strange thing. The roses seemed to wilt and fade almost immediately after being picked. Disappointed, I collected my limp “bouquet”– which only seemed to grab, stick, or poke any fiber of clothing or bare skin. I began to make my way home. I still remember walking along the dusty path dropping those withered roses—one by one—the pain lingering in my fingertips from grabbing after something that would not be had. I still remember the disappointment I felt at discovering the roses would not last.

I walk by wild roses—a new bunch crops up every day. The ones that were in full bloom just yesterday—are gone and new ones replace them. But they will not last.

I smile as I walk by the patches of wild roses. I stop every so often and kneel down to smell their sweet fragrance and admire God’s showmanship in a simple little field flower. As I walk on, I am reminded that sin is sometimes like that wild rose—it is so tempting—so alluring—it seems so right. It looks good, it feels good, and it smells good. If you allow your thoughts to linger long enough—and if your eyes perceive that it is “good” you might try it—and find painful thorns and lingering, bitter disappointment.

Proverbs 14:12 “There is a way which seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.”