Roses on the path

A friend sent me this picture today. It was a beautiful image to see first thing this morning.

We've been talking about what it means to really trust Jesus. Sunday school answers don't always help, though sometimes I find myself returning to the simplest of words I learned way back when, like: "Jesus Loves Me."

I don't think I'll ever really fully understand those three words. Even if it takes me a lifetime to learn what others learn seem to learn so quickly, I'm glad to explore the hidden layers of what they mean for me, and for others I meet along the path.

The question for me, as my friend shared this picture, was how do I receive his love? It is freely given. Do I freely receive it? Or because of my own frailties do I miss it? Turn most of it away.

This morning, my friend simply shared from her heart the story of when she picked up this cross and found the rose. I cried. I'm sentimental at the best of times. But her words made me long once again to pick up my cross and find my rose.

I am praying for that again tonight.
(Psalm 84).