Enforced Secret Joy #17 – SuperRoses!

I’ve blogged about my babies before , but one of them has grown into SuperRose Bush, as I’ve attempted to capture here (yes, I have Photoshop. No, I don't know how to use it.) SuperRose Bush must know it belongs to me, Amy Overachiever, and has now reached a height of close to six and a half feet tall.

I doubt that it can sustain itself at that kind of height. See the new shoots below? That’s the tippy top of SuperRose Bush. If I let those things continue to grow, it’ll get to at least seven feet tall, and I’ll either have to drag out a chair or stand on Roomie Heckle’s shoulders to take care of it, but more importantly, I suspect the weight of it will drag the blooms down and break the stems on their own.







Sure, I know those Christian metaphors about God as the Ultimate Pruner. Hell yeah, I’ve sat through plenty of sermons that use gardening as an example, and how God will sometimes let you, Little Flock, grow and flourish and thrive and strive to be a seven foot rose bush, only to prune you back, because it’s What’s Best For You. And it hurts, and you whine, and you shake your ineffectual fist at God because you wanted to be seven feet tall, but had you continued to grow that way, you would have broken yourself. Yes, yes, I know it all.

But you know what? I’m so tickled at SuperRose Bush’s ambition that I just can’t chop it down. I’m dying to see how high up it can grow. I’m willing to gamble that I’m underestimating SuperRose Bush, that it has Super Secret Strength that I don’t see right now. And if it results in broken stems, then I will be sad and prune them down, but I’ll still whisper to the other stems “It was an awesome run, and I’m glad we took the chance.”

And maybe that’s the reason I’m not an Almighty Deity.

Dear God, thank you for SuperRose Bush. Thank you for its strength and ambition and how it stands as a metaphor for hope in my own front yard. Please let it continue to grow, and be strong, and flourish. Please let Roomies Heckle and Jekyll remember to water it when I’m down in Katrina Country next week. PLEASE LET ROOMIES HECKLE AND JEKYLL REMEMBER TO WATER IT WHEN I’M DOWN IN KATRINA COUNTRY NEXT WEEK. As you can see, God, I’m a little nervous about leaving SuperRose Bush in someone else’s hands. Please help me to work on my trust issues. And let me grow strong and flourish and stretch towards the sun in a metaphorical seven-foot tall kind of way. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Amen.