Orange Rose - An Allegory (Part 2)

Here's the link to Part 1 in case you missed it last week. 

You should probably check it out, because otherwise this post will make no sense.

One day, the girl noticed a new smell. The wind had died down several days before and the garden smelled less burnt. But this smell, it couldn’t be, it was! The girl recognized the scent of her orange rose. She searched for its source and found, under a thick tangle of the strange, wilted plants, a tiny rose shoot. She was surprised how much scent it gave even before it had any blooms. She thought of her father’s bright rose garden far away. She remembered that he had promised to return. She surveyed the garden he taught her to care for. All the plants were bent and browning, but most of them were still alive.

The girl set out to heal the garden before her father returned. She watered diligently and buried her father’s plant food in the rows of the garden. Soon the plants began to straighten, and some even put out new flowers!

Most of all, the girl took care of her tiny rose bush. She cleared away the stems and branches near it so it could receive as much cloudy light as possible. After she watered and fed her plants, she would sit by her rose bush and sing songs her father had taught her long before their journey. Each night she would lay down by the bush and smell it, and each morning it had grown bigger and healthier. 

Eventually, she found it had a bud! The girl was very excited and spent hours every day singing by her bush. She was so happy that she would soon have another rose to remind her of her father.

One morning, the girl woke early to an overpowering smell. She jumped up and looked at her bush. Not one, but three new blooms had opened! There had only been one bud growing, she knew it. How could the three have grown so quickly? Nervous and excited, she scanned the horizon. Far away she made out a tiny figure walking toward the garden with a deliberate, steady pace. She ran toward him, faster and faster until she thought she would trip over her feet. Her father ran, too, and when they met, he scooped her up and held her while she cried and laughed. When he finally set her down and she saw his face through her drying tears, she noticed wet lines in the wrinkles of his smile.

“Well done, my daughter,” he said, “I can see and smell that you have taken care of my garden and my gift.”

The girl looked down at her feet. “But I didn’t. I crushed the orange rose you gave me.”

“I knew you would.”

“What? Then why did you give it to me?”

“Because I knew when you crushed it, it would grow. And because I wanted you to know that I always take your failures and use them to make my plants more beautiful than before. Now this garden has an orange rose bush!”

The girl and her father smiled at each other. They walked through the garden and the father thanked his daughter for taking such good care of the plants. The girl picked the biggest of the three blooms from her bush and gave it to her father. Then they journeyed, hand in hand, back to the father’s bright rose garden.

Orange Rose - An Allegory (Part 1)

Once upon a time there was a little girl. The girl lived with her father, and he loved to give her all sorts of presents. The little girl loved her father very much.

They lived in a bright, sunny kingdom where the father grew roses. Every day he would water and feed the plants until bright, beautiful blooms burst out the tops. As she grew, the little girl learned to help her father. He taught her to dig into the earth, pull weeds, and feed the plants. The little girl loved her father, his garden, and working with him.

Often the father would pick the most beautiful orange roses and give them to his daughter. “Be careful,” he would say, “if you hold the stem too tight, the thorns will cut you. If you hold the bloom too tight, you will crush it.” And the daughter would smile and say, “Thank you, Daddy!” Then she would carefully braid the roses in her hair, flaming it with color as she played and worked.

Occasionally, the father would travel to get supplies or tend to his other gardens. When he left, he would wave at his daughter and she would wave back until he was too small to see. Then the daughter would unbraid her hair, let it dance in the wind, and hold the roses her father gave her. If she ever felt lonely or afraid, she would look at the roses, smell their scent, and remember her father’s love. In this way, she was content until her father returned, smiling.

One day, the father said, “You are old enough to join me on a journey. We will go to one of my farthest gardens and work there. The plants there need special attention.” The little girl was very excited to travel with her father.

Before they left, the father picked the brightest, most beautiful orange rose in his garden and gave it to his daughter. “If you are ever afraid in the land we are going to, this rose will remind you that you are safe in my love.” “Ok, Daddy,” the girl replied, and braided the rose into her hair.

After many days of walking, the girl and her father arrived at his farthest garden. The land was grayer and darker than their home, and the garden was filled with strange plants the girl did not recognize. She could see the plants needed special care because they did not get as much sunlight as her roses at home.

For many months, the girl and her father worked side by side to nourish and protect these new plants. Some grew fantastical, lovely flowers in teal, lavender, violet, and deep blue. Others hardly grew at all. The little girl wished she could see the sun, but she was happy to work with her father.

One day, the father left on another journey. He didn’t say where he was going, but reminded his daughter, “If you feel afraid or lonely, your rose will remind you that I love you and that I will return.”

The girl continued to work in the garden, but she was not happy. The sky looked darker every day, and the plants grew so slowly. Gradually, the girl began hearing dark voices in the wind. She never caught any words, but the tone was always the same. It frightened her and made her wonder if her father was really coming back. One day, she was so frightened that she did not go into the garden to work. Instead, she sat down, unbraided her hair, and stared at the orange rose her father had given her. In the gray light, the rose looked almost brown, but it still smelled just as sweet as the day her father had given it to her. She laid down, held the rose close to her nose, and remembered that her father loved her. Soon, content, she fell asleep.

But the new land also had a smell, like the smoke from many ovens that cooks have not bothered to clean. When the girl awoke, she found that the wind had brought this smell thickly over her garden. She could not smell her rose properly. It still smelled flowery, but also burnt. Frightened, the girl squeezed the rose tightly to make sure it was still real. Its thorns cut into her hands and she cried out in pain. She remembered her father’s words, “If you hold the stem too tight, the thorns will cut you,” but now those words sounded harsh and demanding. She had disobeyed. The girl sucked her cuts as tears rolled down her face.

Then she became angry. Why would her father give her a gift that would hurt her? She wanted desperately to remember the smell of her flowers at home, but now the burning smell was so strong that even when she pressed the rose against her nose, she could barely notice a difference. Desperate to smell her rose, she crushed the bloom, hoping to press out a little scented moisture.

But none came, and the heavy wind whisked the torn, wilted petals away.

She walked and cried and lay down and cried until she was tired. She fell into dark dreams. Then she woke, looked at her rose’s stem, and cried again. She refused to work, and her father’s strange plants began to wilt. She lost count of the days and even forgot that her father had promised to return. The dark voices on the wind swirled around her.

***************

(Stop by next week to see the exciting conclusion to the story!)

Reality

"What is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

-2 Corinthians 4:18

Sleepless evenings rip open my pores to soak

in the terrifying deeps of eternal mystery

and the beating, beat, beating, beat

deep primeval djembe

Throbs my soul

Memory and future

Stretch the present

Slip through the crust of daily, yearly, lifely

Into a cathedral scarred by

Imagination

My hand scratches tears into

stained-glass prisms

Thick truth wafts

Leaves of golden ecstasy

We waltz to the even pulse

Of God’s gut

Steel doors clamp my eyes open

Reality sears lies through my

Conscious

When will I wake?

Fencing

I’ve been revisiting some of my older writings. Here is a revised journal entry from 2008. The italic lines are spoken by my spirit. The others are spoken by my flesh.

Spirit vs. Flesh

Why not? Go ahead. Dive in.

But it’s scary.

I dare you.

I never wanted to be daring.

You know it’s the right thing to do.

Sure. But I also know that I’m hungry and have to pee.

This is so much more important.

Oh yeah? Well you never had to deal with being sore and tired and sick…

How does that matter?

You know God will ask me to go through more of that hard stuff if I “just dive in.”

You can endure it.

I hate it.

You can endure it.

I fear it.

He made your body. He cares about you. He won’t ruin you.

But he might sacrifice me. What then?

(Silence)

What then, huh?

Then…it will be worth it.

Cop out.

It’s true. You know it.

Yeah, but I also know that pain hurts. And what does diving in even look like?

Total submission to His will.

Meaning…

Meaning you don’t get to call the shots anymore.

Riiiiight. That totally sounds like fun.

He never said it would be fun.

What on earth will it do for me?

That’s the wrong question…but it will give you meaning and satisfaction.

That’s all?

Yep. Aside from all the temporary benefits of not disobeying.

Like not getting punished.

Like not seeing others punished for your mistakes.

Ouch.

Well, I’ll let you think about it. You know you’ll give in eventually.

Maybe. But I’m not saying yes now.

Oh, I didn’t expect it. You always hated admitting when you were wrong.

_________________________________________________

Currently I’m thinking about “diving in” by going back to China. It’s big and scary and downright uncomfortable. But it’s worth it. He is worth it.

What has God asked you to dive in to recently? Let me know in the comments!