A young, new preacher was walking with an older, more seasoned
preacher in the garden one day. Feeling a bit insecure about what God had for
him to do, he was inquiring of the older man. The older preacher
walked up to a rosebush, picked a bud, then handed it to the younger preacher,
telling him to open it without tearing any petals. The young preacher looked
in disbelief at the older preacher, trying to figure out what a rosebud could possibly have to do with his wanting to know the
will of God for his life and for his ministry. Because of his high respect for
the older preacher, he proceeded to try unfolding the rose, while
keeping every petal intact.. It wasn't long before he realized how impossible it was to do so. Noticing the younger preacher's inability to
unfold the rosebud while keeping it intact, the older preacher began to
recite the following poem...
UNFOLDING THE ROSEBUD
It is only a tiny rosebud,
A flower of God's design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.
The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I.
God opens this flower so sweetly,
When in my hands they fade and die.
If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of God's design,
Then how can I think I have wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?
So I'll trust in Him for His leading
Each moment of every day.
I will look to Him for guidance
Each step of the pilgrim way.
The pathway that lies before me,
Only my Heavenly Father knows.
I'll trust Him to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose.