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“Alice marveled at the flowers. Huge, fragrant, God-praising blooms. That rose, transplanted and broken, giving beauty to this ground. The dirt and the seed, the flood and the flame, all writing a story of where we belong. Where roses grow, but more than that. Where roses bloom, and where life---full and glorious at its crescendo---finds its meaning over and over again. Maybe the important thing was the same root bound them through any circumstance and any ground. And after a few months, or maybe a few years, the rose would bloom again. The rose always bloomed again. Because somewhere, deep within that plant, was life---abundantly.” — Ashley Clark
Alice marveled at the flowers. Huge, fragrant, God-praising blooms. That rose, transplanted and broken, giving beauty to this ground. The dirt and the seed, the flood and the flame, all writing a story of where we belong. Where roses grow, but more than that. Where roses bloom, and where life---full and glorious at its crescendo---finds its meaning over and over again.
Maybe the important thing was the same root bound them through any circumstance and any ground. And after a few months, or maybe a few years, the rose would bloom again.
The rose always bloomed again.
Because somewhere, deep within that plant, was life---abundantly.