Thank you for the thorns

Sandra felt as low as the heels of her Birkenstocks 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 her ease.

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. What's worse, 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, surprised when the shop clerk said, "I have

the perfect arrangement for you." Then the 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.

"Ooh," stammered Sandra, "that lady just left with, uh... she just left

with no flowers!" "Right. 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 very

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 good things in life and never thought to ask

Him why those good things happened to me, but when bad stuff hit, did I

ever ask! It took time for me to learn that dark times are important. I

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 arrangement... twelve 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

to the clerk. "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'd 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."

-- Author Unknown-