June 4, 2007

This Happened: Pink Roses

After hurricane Katrina, the associate pastor in our church located a church on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain that needed some help organizing themselves for the influx of volunteers that were pouring in from all over the country. I jumped aboard the van heading down, but not without some trepidation. If I were a single woman without three boys 3, 8 and 12 I'd have felt differently, but as it was I was a little fearful of going off and leaving them. To tell the honest truth, long car rides make me squirrelly. I was afraid of dying in a car accident on the trip.

The trip down was fairly easy. We were all excited, chatting incessantly, and running on adrenaline and snacks. The trip back was a bit different. We were exhausted from working all day, every day. We had a lot on our minds. Only two of us were insured to drive the van, so that meant a lot of sleepy driving. The others took turns sitting up front and keeping the driver awake. I couldn't sleep no matter who was where. I was alert, awake and vigilant for the 22 hours it took us to drive straight through. I was nervous.

When I pray thanks and praise, sometimes I envision pink roses. Bouquets of pink roses floating heavenward. I have no idea where it started, it's just something that I see when I close my eyes in thanks. On this trip, I prayed a lot for different things. But I struggled with the feeling that my fears about the drive were a lack of faith. I tried over and again to put the fears to rest and give it to God in prayer. Each time I did, I'd "hear" the same thing back: As you drive into your hometown, you will be sending Me pink roses in thanks for the safe trip. Still, I stayed awake, I couldn't rest.

At one point, our pastor was driving and I knew he was tired. It was in the middle of the night and we were a few hours from home. I saw him starting to nod in the rear view mirror and I called to him, "Chris! You're falling asleep, let Jim drive!" He pulled over at the next rest stop, wondering to me how in the world I caught him so fast. We all sleepily stretched out of the van and lumbered into the rest stop. I went into the ladies room and reached for the second stall. It seems I always use the second stall. This time though, I thought again and went into the third stall. I walked in, turned around, closed the door and froze.
Hanging on the back of the door was a bouquet of pink roses.


rosemary said...

I don't know what to say...you have obviously kept this close to your heart for a long while. Thank you for telling me...and I mean me because this feels like a very personal message to each one that reads this.

Tapping my foot waiting for tomorrow.....I think Anne Lamonts books on faith somehow were ordered after I read your blog....darn bunnies.

Paul said...

See, it's special little things like this that make me like you. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Trouble, hardship, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger or sword..? No! In all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loves us. I believe that we all have our angels.