The roses could have been any color. I could just have easily bought white ones, or yellow ones. But they were pink for a reason. I just didn't know it.
I set up for the funerals at our church. It's the perfect way for me to be quietly helpful and avoid the social anxiety that still troubles me intermittently. I take a child with me and sometimes meet a friend and we perform this small act of kindness for the loved ones.
Often, the family is ok with anything we want to put out on the tables for the luncheon, but sometimes there are specific requests. This weekend, family requested old hymns, and wanted the decor to include her beloved Scrabble game. It was a simple matter to frame some favorite songs and arrange them on a cloth with a candle holder and a few words spelled out in tiles.
I hadn't made enough framed hymns, but God provided in a way that made me smile. I found extra frames in a drawer at church, and in the very bottom of the box I'd packed the candle holders in was a stray piece of sheet music. Somehow left there after a past funeral, it was immediately at hand for this one. Natalie and I thanked God for His sense of humor and provision, and got to work.
The tables looked nice. But it needed something to pull it all together, and so I bought the roses.
In with all the autumnal centerpieces in the cooler, the store had lots of red, some peach, a few white and yellow, and one cellophane-wrapped dozen in pink. I'd wanted dark pink, but there weren't any and I didn't have time to stop at another place. Light pink would have to do. I paid and left.
I had no idea pink was exactly perfect. This sweet couple had a thing for pink roses. Every year on their anniversary she'd have a corsage with seven pink roses in it, the number of perfection. There were 100 pink roses on her casket spray. And here I'd placed one on each table, completely unknowing.
This weekend, a family warmed with memories and remembered their mother's, sister's, wife's, grandmother's God cares even about the smallest things. I knew it was a God-thing when the sheet music appeared, but it gave me chills when I found out about the roses. Could God possibly care about such a thing as the color of a grocery store flower?
The answer is yes. He delights in speaking in a quiet but clear voice. He knows we need the reminder that He has surely borne our sorrows and been acquainted with grief. He loves to show us that He is trust-worthy and that He is unceasingly working for our good.
It's easy for me to trust God with the big picture. I easily place the world, our nation, and my children's' futures in His hand. But this weekend I was reminded that God is in the details, the small and simple everyday things. His eye is on the sparrow, and on the roses.