Two weeks ago I purchased a beautiful little miniature rose bush from Walmart- or rather I rescued the plant from Walmart.  I have watered it and kept it on my kitchen window sill where it has rewarded my tender care with an abundance of bright red blooms to brighten up my winter days.

Poinsettias at Christmas, miniature roses for Valentine’s and early spring bulbs that start appearing in the stores by mid February bring a touch of cheer to winter days when all other plants and flowers are dormant, but of course these flowers have been carefully nurtured in a greenhouse in order to encourage their early blooms.

As I gazed on the beauty of my little plant this morning I was thinking about how easy it is to bloom in winter when sitting on a window sill, and I found myself comparing those blooms to the spiritual fruit I see in others. When I look deep, I find my heart is so judgmental – I pessimistically view the beautiful blooms of faith and good deeds in others in comparison to the winters they’ve weathered and I am skeptical if I think they have been sheltered and protected while I admire those that I know have wintered harsh storms and still bloom.

Why is it that I cannot find delight in the faith of both the young believer and the seasoned soul? While tossing these thoughts about and wrestling with my own sinful attitude, the thought occurred to me that the little plant will not always be able to bloom and grow on the window sill – this is just a short season for this little plant, so I should be – and in regards to the plant – I am very thankful that I can enjoy its blooms while they last.

If the plant continues to grow, it will have to be repotted and moved because it will no longer fit on the window sill. Eventually, it will end up on my front porch when the weather warms.  Hopefully, in another year or so, it will finally find a home in my yard with the other miniature roses.  The miniature roses in my yard bloom profusely from early summer until late fall.  They endure hot summers and harsh winters and yet they still bloom in season. From the first tiny buds until the last lingering flower, I enjoy their bounty of fragrant flowers, but that joy does not subtract from the delight I have in gazing upon my new little plant – in fact the potential it holds adds to my pleasure. 

Looking at the buds of faith and blooms of spiritual growth in those young adults who have already begun to do great things, I pray I will not judge their works simply because they are still young plants sitting on the window sill, but will rather rejoice in the blooms of today and take hope in the potential for tomorrow.