This morning I walked along the verandah, checking on my
pot-plants. There were all sorts of plants grown from cuttings or gifted
to me, most of them hardy and long lasting against the harsh summer sun.
The most precious plant on the verandah was a small rosebush. I had gathered the seed-pod from a rosebush two years ago, planted the seeds and this was the only one that grew. The others failed to come through for me. Now this small bush had produced two single rose-red blooms that shaded to softer pink in the centre.
It was my very own rose, my witness to seeking out the seed, selecting soil, choosing a suitable pot, planting, watering and nurturing. It bore witness to me and to the extravagance of my dedication.
Everything I had done for it was now on show to everyone who came by. It is up for scrutiny and everyone is entitled to ask ‘Who borned this rose? Who owns it? Is it a true witness to the owner? Does it truly reflect the soil, the pot, the position, and the water?’
I wonder if God had my rose in mind when he said we are his witnesses. If God has nurtured us, viewers have the right to ask God ‘Who borned this person? Who owns this person? Is this person a true witness to the owner? Does this person truly reflect the soil from whence he came, the place where he is growing, his position in ministry and the water wherewith he is watered?’
‘You are my witnesses, that I am God,’ the Lord said in Isaiah 43:12 so being a witness is no slight thing.
But God has added value to his witnesses and my rose but faintly reflects what the Lord said of his witnesses. God said ‘A truthful witness saves lives,’ (Proverbs 14:25).
I borned a rose; how much more precious is everyone who has borned a life that bears witness that our God is the God who saves lives. ‘I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly,’ (John 10:10).