"The Rose" "The Rose"
The Rose in God's Hands
by Diane Bell
On Memorial Day one of our A&R message boards was gifted with "The Rose." I've always loved this song written by Amanda McBroom, especially Bette Midler's version of it. Here are the lyrics:
Some say love it is the river that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love it is the razor that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love it is a hunger an aching endless need.
I say love it is a flower, and you its only seed.
It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking that never takes a chance.
It's the one who wont be taken, who cannot seem to give,
and the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live.
When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long,
And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong,
Just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed that with the sun's love in the spring becomes The Rose.Copyright © Warner-Tamerlane Music Publishing / Third Story Music Inc. (BMI)
In recent years the song has taken a special place in my heart. As a beautiful Memorial Day gift, it reminded me of one of the many spiritually significant things that accompanied my mother's death.
My recovering sister is a gifted and talented musician. God let me be the one to shove a guitar into her hands when she was 14 years old, spending the summer with me in Seattle, and bored.
She astounded us and everyone we knew. After six weeks, she was performing evening concerts for us all. She only opened the lesson book once, and that was to see where to put her fingers. She plays by ear. Today that old guitar of mine has been replaced by a beautiful 12-string guitar that's magical in her hands. And she sings -- a beautifully rich and clear voice.
My mother loved listening to her more than anything in the world. She would sit and listen as long as Sue would play, and that was frequently for hours at a time. It pleased me that Mom frequently told me how much she appreciated my giving that old guitar to Sue.
My mother was an alcoholic and rarely expressed approval of anything I did, so her enjoyment and appreciation were especially meaningful to me. And there's no end to the pleasure that Sue's music has brought to all of us.
When we were planning Mom's funeral, Sue said that she wanted to sing a song, a cappella, because she hadn't brought her guitar with her. She said she really wanted to sing "The Rose" and asked if I could help her remember the words to it.
In Virginia, I was an Alateen sponsor for three or four years. Each summer we had a regional Alateen retreat in the Smoky Mountains at a beautiful small college campus. There was a wonderful little lake on campus with banks that gently sloped uphill, making a bowl for the lake to rest in. Each evening we held a candlelight meeting around the lake with speakers, lots of sharing, and lots of music.
One evening, a particularly moving meeting was opened with everyone singing "The Rose." The words were attached by a ribbon to a beautiful rose for each person there, and there were probably 300 of us. The words of that song, powered by all those loving voices, opened up the way for healing to begin for five teenagers who were particularly troubled and had been causing a lot of trouble at the retreat.
It was nothing short of a miracle, and I was deeply touched to see the hand of God at work when least expected. This wasn't a revival atmosphere with the intent of trying to "convert" anyone to anything. These kids were the leaders of their Alateen home groups and were there to plan the direction of their program activities for the coming year.
It was an experience I never wanted to forget. So guess what I did with the little piece of paper with the words to the song? Yep, I stuck it into the flap of the cloth cover on my ODAT (One Day at a Time in Al-Anon daily readings). And guess where my ODAT was when Sue asked me to help her remember the words to the song? On the small table between our chairs.
With tears freely flowing, I reached inside the cover and handed her the piece of paper. With tears freely flowing, she looked up at me smiling and said, "Ain't God mighty?"
Indeed, He is. Sue’s rendition of "The Rose," accompanied only by God at Mom’s funeral, was breathtakingly beautiful. The healing energy God lent that song, once again, was truly mighty in magical proportions. I wonder if Amanda McBroom knows she gave God such a magnificent tool for touching human hearts when she wrote those words?
© Diane Bell
•