It was a roller-coaster. We thought we were prepared, we really did. We had researched, planned and prayed. Everyone told us how hard it was. That you would fall in love, head over heels, with one but that it wouldn't work out. We felt that way more than once. Then we found the one.
A perfect little house for our family. When we first walked through it we couldn't believe how great it was for us. Just what we wanted and well within our price range. Then, in a startling moment of joy I shouted out: honey! It has four bedrooms! I recounted again, just to be sure. We had all but given up on four bedrooms for what we could afford and were settling for three.
We had just put an offer on a house that didn't work out and it sort of felt like a bad break-up. I never thought I'd have a mental image of a house saying "it's not you, it's me..." but I did.
So it had been back to the drawing board in house hunting after we were outbid with one of the houses we had fallen in love with. We sat and prayed one night about our future house and as soon as we started praying I saw roses. Swimming before my eyes were roses everywhere. I choked out to my husband in a hushed whisper as if the roses were surely a holy thing that I think it meant the house we were supposed to be in would have roses. It sounded silly but he took it seriously and nodded solemnly. Roses. We would look for roses.
You would laugh that we missed these. That the perfect house with a whopping extra bedroom had this gigantic bush right by the door. Granted, the roses weren't in bloom yet, but there was the bush with thorns ready and waiting for said roses to fill it, right by the door. It had been bugging me that there were no roses (or so I thought.) Buyers remorse never set in fully but I had this slight pang of, what if we screwed up?
The day I got the keys from the realtor I walked towards the front door and saw the first bloom. A rose confirmation slapping me in the heart. But that was not all. There was another yellow bush by the back yard (that someone cut off the blooms before I could take a photo of... I have my suspicions...) and then yet another deep red one. There is likely a fourth as well but the blooms have not come out this year. I can't wait to see what they will be.
Because. He gives us roses. Not just one mind you but three, maybe even four tantalizing rose bushes. That I have enjoyed dearly.
My father once planted a rose bush outside my bedroom window and I used to love the smell of it. I told my new husband that story as we dreamed up what our life together would look like. So he got me a rose bush in a big pot that I fear did not survive our stint in an apartment, but still, it was a rosebush for me.
One rosebush from my daddy. One from my hubby. But four rosebushes from my God. He gives us roses, friend, he gives us roses.