Recently I had the questionable privilege of spending some time in the hospital. It seems I got some sort of virus which kicked up the seldom a problem asthma. I don't like to do things the easy way so I chose to have this little problem in the midst of one of the worst snow storms our area has had in a very long time. Churches did not hold services and even the large malls closed early. My doctor decided the only way to get me to a hospital was by ambulance. When I heard he sent for the ambulance I desperately tried disguising myself, but they came too quickly. I had only had one previous ambulance ride, but I was told the paramedics still talked about it from time to time. On the first ambulance trip, they pulled over on the way to the hospital to pick up yet another paramedic. He quickly jumped into the ambulance and started examining me saying, "My name is Bill Sane and I'm here to help you." My quick answer was, "As long as you aren't In Sane, go for it." He radioed the hospital and said the patient had a pulse of 37 and was cracking jokes. Apparently I did not want to be seriously ill. After an exciting ride through the snowbanks, I arrived at the hospital. I stayed there for four days. I also stayed four nights. During my first night I looked around my private room and wondered if there would be enough room on the windowsill for all the flowers I was sure to receive from my many friends. By the end of the second day, I had only received one bud vase with carnations. My husband had not even brought me any flowers. Actually, that was partly my fault since I had made a grave mistake early in our marriage. He brought me flowers one evening while we were really struggling financially and I said, "Honey, don't buy me flowers right now, we need to save our money." I just didn't want to be sitting in a cold house where the power had been shut off, starving from a lack of food, looking at beautiful flowers which were not able to nourish or warm me. Well, obviously he only heard the "don't buy me flowers" part when I wanted him to hear the "right now" part. Since that time I seldom receive flowers. Perhaps he will read this and all that will change. Finally on the third day, I saw some hope on the horizon. My sister in law Shirley brought me a beautiful long stemmed red rose. While there was only one rose, it was one ROSE. I carefully put the rose into the small vase containing my only other flowers. It gave me something new to look at and I thought it was absolutely perfect in every way. Late the next evening when I finally got to go home, I had someone else carry the other flowers, but I personally carried the rose. I shielded it in my coat to protect it from Michigan's harsh January temperatures. As soon as I arrived home, I immediately put the rose into a vase of its own. I put it right beside the kitchen sink so I would remember to water it. Daily I checked the water level knowing I needed to take good care of the only rose I received. By early February, I was amazed at how long that rose was lasting. I decided it must have something to do with all the love and attention I had given it. Finally on Valentine's Day, my husband ended his "no flowers" years. My friend Laura works at the post office which is right next door to the flower shop. She had a little chat with him when he picked up the mail. She told him he would be a big hit if he brought me flowers. Actually that day she had told all the men that thinking it was her duty to the women of the community. He took her advice and came home with two long stemmed red roses. I was thrilled and impressed. Now I had three red roses. That was pretty much a lifetime record! I immediately found a vase, filled it with water and set the lovely flowers on the table to grace the special Valentine dinner I had prepared. Part way through the meal I looked at the two rose containing vases. I was amazed at their similarity despite the fact that one rose was nearly three weeks old. I got up from the table to take one last close look at this amazing rose before I headed to the phone to call the Guiness Book of World Records people to notify them of their need to send a camera crew and investigator so my rose could be featured on the front cover of their next edition. I discovered that while the rose was still as perfect as ever, the stem seemed rubbery and almost plastic. I thought perhaps that stemmed from old age...after all my legs had become more rubbery with age. Still amazed at my little BUDdy, I touched it very carefully and that was when I discovered it was a silk rose. For more than two weeks I had been watering a silk rose. At first I felt kind of disappointed that I had not received a real rose. Then I laughed and decided it did not make a difference. The real gift was the love, not the rose. The real gift was that someone had loved me enough to make that 60 mile round trip to spend some time with me in the hospital. The love was real even if the rose was not. My smile continued as I thought about the word rose and what a huge difference it has made in my life. I opened my Bible to I Thessalonians 4:13-14 and read, "Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe Jesus died and ROSE again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in Him." That is the real ROSE. That ROSE brings me hope and happiness every day. That ROSE will never fade or die and because of that ROSE I will never die. That is the only ROSE that really matters in my life and in my death. It is not a ROSE I have to hope someone will give me. I have already been gifted with that ROSE by Christ Himself and no one can ever take it away from me. Enjoy life. Smell the roses, remembering the One who ROSE!