A rose grows without having a say about it, and yet a rose knows it is fulfilling its destiny.

A rose in bloom knows when it is loved. It feels the difference and adores being loved, and a rose always loves. A rose has awareness of its rise from rose hip to full-blown rose. A rose doesn't know the words, but a rose knows its own roseness, and is glad to be this one in a million rose.

A rose may be red, and it loves its redness even though the rose doesn't know the names of colors, and still a rose loves himself as he is.

A rose may be yellow, and it knows it is like the sun, even when it cannot see colors. After all, it has been basking in the sun and drinking up its rays. What a lovely thing to be a rose!

Even a white rose knows its elegance and refinement. What a great and beautiful thing to be a rose of any color or any kind!

Roses do not ask to be dyed other colors or become variegated colors. A rose is happy to be what it naturally is.

Yet if a rose grows in a greenhouse, it has no say on who picks it up and what they may do with it or where they may take it. It simply has to be a willing rose.

Some of the circumstances of roses are also yours, and yet you have great say on what you will wear and how and where you will comport yourself. To a degree, you are at the mercy of circumstances. To a greater degree, you have choices, and many choices that are great.

You can give yourself to others and add great joy to their lives. You do give great joy. You can also even forget the rose that you are. You, a human being, may not even bother to breathe in the beautiful scent of roses, so caught up are you in following you know not what.

Roses don't have a leader in their dozen, yet you, my beloved, you always have those you look to for leadership. You may not lead your own life, or you live your own life in the image of someone else. There are many good images to follow, yes. The best of all is Mine. In any case, you are made in My image. Of course, you may scoot along in life so fast that you forget to remember your identity and so leave yourself behind.

Only later you may wake up, clap your head to your forehead, and say, "Where have I been? What have I been doing? It is like I have been racing along. I don't know why I am racing. I don't know where I'm racing to. I seem to have left myself behind. Here I seem to be up front, and yet I am a straggler who doesn't even have a clue as to who I am. Alas, did I let an imposter lead my life? Did an actor take over for me? Was I left in the dressing room, not even aware of it? All this time I thought I was leading my life, and yet, all the while, I was simply following along, looking elsewhere, not even paying attention.

"And now I stop a minute, and I wonder who I really am and what I am really doing and what is really, really important to me and to those around me. I may still follow, but now I will not follow blindly. And I will always keep my eyes open to recognize the One in Whose Image I was made and meant to follow."