I found a rose today. It was wrapped in toilet paper, and placed in the gap where a book usually sits on my bookshelf. It was completely flat and dried out. It was also so dark that it looked a purplish black.
That rose has been there for about six months. I put it there after I went on the Cape Of Good Hope Chrysalis flight, because I never wanted the memories to fade. But, over time, I forgot that it was even there. It took a chance event, my mother borrowing that precise book, to bring the flower to light. I have read the books it was between enough that I had no plans to reread them soon, and so without that event, the rose would have remain undiscovered. Possibly becoming drier and flatter.
Sometimes that is what walking with God is like. We discover something important, and so we tuck it away in our memories, somewhere safe, where we can preserve it. Make sure that it will last forever. But then, we have put it away so safely that we do not think of it again, until a chance event brings it to our attention. This rose was not completely forgotten, and I have other reminders of Chrysalis, but the state in which I found it, and the way in which I found it, are meaningful.
The black rose has many strong and dark connotations. But this rose was a beautiful red specimen when I received it. Now, I could call it black and brittle, and say it is dying, or I could say it is dark purple, and well preserved. It will not rot, instead I will be able to keep it forever, although I should probably label it if I want to remember where it came from. The chance of finding it, depended on someone else wanting to read a particular book on my shelf. One that most of the time doesn't even feature on my "recommend to people" list. Yet it was borrowed, and the rose was brought to light.
My thoughts on this? God works in weird and wonderful ways, and nothing is ever a coincidence. Instead it is a God-incidence.
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