There comes a point in every flower’s life when she begins to wonder, why bloom? In the beginning, blooming seems to emanate from the excitement of the day itself. All the adventures it holds, the people who will recognize her beauty. And then of course there is the gardener who looks upon the flower like no other, because he sustains her, gives her food and water. So those days where the excitement of the sunrise in itself is not enough, she blooms for him. To hear his voice and catch his gaze as he tenderly protects her with his strong hands.
But then, that dreadful moment comes when she thinks that the gaze of the gardener is no longer enough. Doubt begins to fester. Why does the Gardener invest so much time in me if only for himself? There must be more? So then she blooms for the world, for the stranger’s smile. Yet somehow, these passersby can never fill her like the Gardener’s gaze. He knows her, has counted every petal, examined every leaf, made note of every thorn. But these by standards seem to recognize and move on. She might catch the gaze of one person for a while, but their interest always seems to move to the next thing, the sky, the wind, other flowers in the garden. And she is left alone.
So one day, the rose decided enough was enough. Enough of being forgotten and rejected, she would no longer bloom. No longer fulfill the purpose the gardener gave life to her for. When this happened the world didn’t notice, but the Gardener did. Giving the flower extra attention, talking to her, watering her, and even though she was a stubborn flower, she saw His persistence, his passion. And then, by looking into the depths of his eyes, she knew why she bloomed. It had to be for the Gardener and him alone.
So, she was then again there for the passersby, knowing that it was not her beauty that would keep them, but the work of the Gardener. And when she was tired and scared, she found the courage to bloom, not in the eyes of the world, but in the love of the Gardener.