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TWELVE OF THE FINEST RED ROSES |
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We Grieve, But Not Without Hope Today I have come to lay my beloved’s body in the ground as my parents have done for hundreds of generations, knowing that the day of resurrection will come and God’s children will share the glory. The Bible says in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump; the trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O DEATH, WHERE IS THY STING? O GRAVE, WHERE IS THY VICTORY? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. I Corinthians 15: 54-57
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The sudden showers that burst through the clouds could not deter the young husband as he walked into the familiar shop. He focused his eyes on the vast array of beautiful flowers in pots and stands. The sights and sounds were familiar to him. He frequently found himself stopping for
twelve of the finest red roses, wrapped in shimmering paper, tied with a golden ribbon.
Today was her birthday, but it did not matter whether the occasion was Valentine's Day or the anniversary of their marriage. The expression of his love for her was always the same--
twelve of the finest red roses, wrapped in shimmering paper, tied with a golden ribbon.
There was always a card with a printed message declaring his love for her. But it was the hand written note composed from his heart that spoke of his passionate devotion to her. The envelope was sealed with a kiss and placed on
twelve of the finest red roses, wrapped in shimmering paper, tied with a golden ribbon.
The gift carefully lay on the seat beside him, as he drove toward the home they built together. The trees that lined the streets moved gently in the breeze. They seemed to be calling him homeward with
twelve of the finest red roses, wrapped in shimmering paper, tied with a golden ribbon.
As he neared the home he had grown to love so dearly, he took a turn that was not as familiar. The road before him blurred through the tears that began to well up in his eyes. “I am coming my love,” he quietly repeated to himself. "I am coming with
twelve of the finest red roses, wrapped in shimmering paper, tied with a golden ribbon."
The sun began to peek through the clouds that had given way to the sudden showers. A filtered ray of light shone like a yellow pathway across the green grassy slope. The young husband began to walk down the tiny pathway conscious of every step he took. In his hands were
twelve of the finest red roses, wrapped in shimmering paper, tied with a golden ribbon.
He fell to his knees, with his hands stretched forward. The tips of his fingers began to trace over the words carved into the stone in the form of a heart that lay before him. He whispered her name in a gentle tone as he laid his gift in the heart-shaped silhouette offered by the ray of light. As he rose to leave his eyes turned for one last look at
twelve of the finest red roses, wrapped in shimmering paper, tied with a golden ribbon.
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