Wild roses are very different than from their
domesticated brethren. There are only
five simple petals radiating from a bright yellow center. The roses in my garden have many complex
layers of petals. Wild roses are always
a subtle pink color; while garden roses come in a wide variety of colors, many
of which are anything but subtle. Wild
roses are resilient. Many of the roses
blooming this morning had been mowed by the county tractor several weeks ago;
consequently, the plants are low to the ground – maybe 6 – 10 inches high. The only place where the wild roses were
approaching anything that you could call “long-stemmed” were the three of four
plants that grew close to the roadside post where the mower blade couldn’t get
to them.
The wild roses do have a soft perfume scent. It is so soft that you have to get down close
to the flower to catch the aroma. I
don’t do so well at getting that low to the ground these days, and I surely
wasn’t going to be selfish and pluck a flower just so I could enjoy one deep
breath. Roses from the florist have a
heavy perfume that can easily fill an entire room.
To me, it is not surprising that wild roses bloom in
the first half of June. June 14th
is our wedding anniversary; this year will be our 46th. In many ways wild roses remind of
Michelle. Her beauty is simple and yet
deep. It penetrates her heart. She does not like to call attention to
herself and yet is someone that you immediately notice.
She is very intelligent, all except for the possible slip
of judgement she made in choosing me.
Although she had been impactfully teaching religion to middle schoolers
for years that didn’t stop her from the challenge of going back to school to
earn a Masters of Theology. We had many
deep conversations about her current studies as she worked her way through the
program. She enjoyed the learning and
the challenge and wanted to share that, so when she graduated in 2016 she
looked in my eyes, gave me a kiss and said, “Tag, you’re it!” And so, I accepted the invitation and
received my own degree in 2021.
She was the first one to recognize my calling to the
diaconate and encourage me to explore the possibility. Love is seeing the potential in others.
The wild rose, especially these in this roadside ditch
are missed by many, but those of us who are blessed to have taken notice find
that she is generous with her beauty – a simple, natural, and more complete beauty
which is the love that she shares especially with family and friends, and her
grateful husband. Happy anniversary
Shelly!
His Peace <><
Deacon Dan
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