Venía yo por el camino
Cuando una rosa me tropezó.
Languideciendo entre espinos,
La recogí y la rosa me besó.
Rosa, ¿de dónde vienes?
Estás muy triste.
¿Quién te cortó?
Rosa, ya no estás sola.
¿De dónde eres?
¿Quién te robó?
De la Sierra Morena
De allí soy yo.
¡De la Sierra Morena!
Dichosa el alma
Que me encontró.
Rosa llovizna celeste,
Así caen del cielo las cosas
Cuando son rosas
Del Dios Leal.
I was talking to a pretty amazing woman from my congregation today.
She’s faced a lot of difficult problems throughout her life.
I was kind of in a hurry to get home.
But she started crying.
I told her to ignore the negative comments of those determined to destroy her spirit.
Those things don’t come from God, and anything that doesn’t come from God is temporary.
“Just focus on enjoying your ministry, because this does come from God.”
Then I walked to my car.
On the way to my car, I found this rose.
Anyone with a spiritual inclination would see it as a God-given rose, you know, for taking a few minutes to comfort the woman.
And I was thinking, as I walked, people are like roses.
We all have thorns and some get cut off in their prime.
Tossed to the side of the road, to wither between the scorching pavement and the blazing sun.
That is, if no one picks them up.
So take a few minutes of your day to pick someone’s spirits up.
Perhaps God will give you something beautiful too.