When it's cupped in my hands, I feel I'm cupping the face of grace. I stare, mesmerized by this grace flower. And I breathe deep again. Life slows, and all that is in this moment is the scent of grace and the silky head of this rose against my skin.
It seems a beautiful reminder placed at the end of a week spent pondering grace. Life is not roses, we know this well. But this grace flower speaks to me: roses can always be found along the roadside of life, beckoning us aside for a moment to see, feel, breathe the fragrance of grace.