As the rose blooms in the rain, on this Gaudete Sunday may we lift our faces to the storm clouds and sing your praises anyway.
As the rose produces a beautiful, sweet scent when all around it the stench of manure is ripe, on this Gaudete Sunday may we be fragrant as the fruits of your Spirit ripen in our lives; may we be fertilised by the multitude of shit around us but not overwhelmed by it.
As the rose feeds those around us by the pollen it produces, on this Gaudete Sunday may we feed those around us by our gifts, our words, our deeds and our presence; may we know we are valued and needed, that we are an integral part of the world’s beautiful and vibrant tapestry, and that the lives of those around us would be less without our enriching contibution.
As the rose has thorns for protection, on this Gaudete Sunday may we know to hold our boundaries. May we love, and give, and care, but may we also discern, and be prayerful, and rest. Although I pray we maintain boudaries well enough we don’t fall into hurting others for self preservation, for thorns have a bite we need not inflict.
As the rose has beauty, on this Gaudete Sunday may we reflect yours God, and may we also embody our own. You made us to be unique, to have our own purpose, our individuality, our voice and our words. You gave us our being and we craft our image together. As you tend your garden, may you look at us, your stunning array of quirky, dissimilar, vibrant, eclectic, amazing, wonderful roses and be well pleased.
As I am to be your rose today.
Peace be with you.
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