Praise Him for your roses! Thank Him for your thorns!
Sandra felt as low as the heels of her shoes as she
pushed against a November gust and the florist shop
door.
Her life had been easy, like a spring breeze. Then in
the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a minor
automobile accident stole that from her.
During this Thanksgiving week she would have delivered
a son. She grieved over her loss. As if that weren’t
enough, her husband’s company threatened a transfer.
Then her sister, whose holiday visit she coveted,
called saying she could not come for the holiday.
Then Sandra’s friend infuriated her by suggesting her
grief was a God-given path to maturity that would
allow her to empathize with others who suffer. She has
no idea what I’m feeling, thought Sandra with a
shudder.
Thanksgiving? Thankful for what? She wondered. For a
careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when
he rear-ended her? For an airbag that saved her life
but took that of her child?
“Good afternoon, can I help you?” The shop clerk’s
approach startled her.
“I….I need an arrangement,” stammered Sandra.
“For Thanksgiving? Do you want beautiful but ordinary,
or would you like to challenge the day with a customer
favorite I call the Thanksgiving “Special?” asked the
shop clerk. “I’m convinced that flowers tell stories,”
she continued. “Are you looking for something that
conveys ‘gratitude’ this thanksgiving?”
“Not exactly!” Sandra blurted out. “In the last five
months, everything that could go wrong has gone
wrong.”
Sandra regretted her outburst, and was surprised when
the shop clerk said, “I have the perfect arrangement
for you.”
Just then the shop door’s small bell rang, and the
shop clerk said, “Hi, Barbara…let me get your
order.” She politely excused herself and walked toward
a small workroom, then quickly reappeared, carrying an
arrangement of greenery, bows, and long-stemmed thorny
roses. Except the ends of the rose stems were neatly
snipped: there were no flowers.
“Want this in a box?” asked the clerk.
Sandra watched for the customer’s response. Was this a
joke? Who would want rose stems with no flowers! She
waited for laughter, but neither woman laughed.
“Yes, please,” Barbara, replied with an appreciative
smile. “You’d think after three years of getting the
special, I wouldn’t be so moved by its significance,
but I can feel it right here, all over again,” she
said as she gently tapped her chest. And she left with
her order.
“Uh,” stammered Sandra, “that lady just left with,
uh….she just left with no flowers!
“Right, said the clerk, “I cut off the flowers. That’s
the Special. I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns
Bouquet.”
“Oh, come on, you can’t tell me someone is willing to
pay for that!” exclaimed Sandra.
“Barbara came into the shop three years ago feeling
much like you feel today,” explained the clerk. “She
thought she had very little to be thankful for. She
had lost her father to cancer, the family business was
failing, her son was into drugs, and she was facing
major surgery.”
“That same year I had lost my husband,” continued the
clerk, “and for the first time in my life, had just
spent the holidays alone. I had no children, no
husband, no family nearby, and too great a debt to
allow any travel.”
“So what did you do?” asked Sandra.
“I learned to be thankful for thorns,” answered the
clerk quietly. “I’ve always thanked God for the good
things in my life and never questioned the good things
that happened to me, but when bad stuff hit, did I
ever ask questions! It took time for me to learn that
dark times are important. I have always enjoyed the
‘flowers’ of life, but it took thorns to show me the
beauty of God’s comfort. You know, the Bible says that
God comforts us when we’re afflicted, and from His
consolation we learn to comfort others.”
Sandra sucked in her breath as she thought about the
very thing her friend had tried to tell her. “I guess
the truth is I don’t want comfort. I’ve lost a baby
and I’m angry with God.”
Just then someone else walked in the shop. “Hey,
Phil!” shouted the clerk to the balding, rotund man.
“My wife sent me in to get our usual Thanksgiving
Special….12 thorny, long-stemmed stems!” laughed
Phil as the clerk handed him a tissue-wrapped
arrangement from the refrigerator.
“Those are for your wife?” asked Sandra incredulously.
“Do you mind me asking why she wants something that
looks like that?”
“No…I’m glad you asked,” Phil replied. “Four years
ago my wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years,
we were in a real mess, but with the Lord’s grace and
guidance, we slogged through problem after problem. He
rescued our marriage. Jenny here (the clerk) told me
she kept a vase of rose stems to remind her of what
she learned from “thorny” times, and that was good
enough for me. I took home some of those stems. My
wife and I decided to label each one for a specific
“problem” and give thanks for what that problem taught
us.”
As Phil paid the clerk, he said to Sandra, “I highly
recommend the Special!”
“I don’t know if I can be thankful for the thorns in
my life.” Sandra said. “It’s all too…fresh.”
“Well,” the clerk replied carefully, “my experience
has shown me that thorns make roses more precious. We
treasure God’s providential care more during trouble
than at any other time. Remember, it was a crown of
thorns that Jesus wore so we might know His love.
Don’t resent the thorns.”
Tears rolled down Sandra’s cheeks. For the first time
since the accident, she loosened her grip on
resentment. “I’ll take those twelve long-stemmed
thorns, please,” she managed to choke out.
“I hoped you would,” said the clerk gently. “I’ll have
them ready in a minute.”
“Thank you. What do I owe you?”
“Nothing. Nothing but a promise to allow God to heal
your heart. The first year’s arrangement is always on
me.” The clerk smiled and handed a card to Sandra.
“I’ll attach this card to your arrangement, but maybe
you would like to read it first.”
It read: “My God, I have never thanked You for my
thorns. I have thanked You a thousand times for my
roses, but never once for my thorns. Teach me the
glory of the cross I bear; teach me the value of my
thorns. Show me that I have climbed closer to You
along the path of pain. Show me that, through my
tears, the colors of Your rainbow look much more
brilliant.”
Praise Him for your roses; thank Him for your thorns!
