In rocky soil in the appointed place,
The little flower lifts up it face.
Perhaps no one ever notices, but still it is there;
Offering its aroma, to anyone, that cares.
Now in this story, you may begin to perceive,
That every (bloom), is important to me.
Occasionally, you get a glimpse of someone others pass by.
And. you appreciate their touch upon your life.
Perhaps their aroma, has sweetened the air you breathe,
And they have become very precious to thee.
But what I, want you to see, is the ones; stepped upon.
The one, that all their beauty is gone.
They are, ragged from the cares of life, and, the world’s abuse;
Forgotten, and tossed aside; like an old pair of shoes.
I desire for you to know
That the One that (so loved the world) loves them so
Gather them close and you will see
That they become a beautiful display; a bouquet for the King
Love the unlovely; love the flowers torn,
For such are the ones, in God’s kingdom, and are, the reborn.
Do you remember your condition, before God came into your life?
How terrible, was the soul, before the touch of Christ.
You prove, torn flowers, may be completely restored,
By, the good work of love, a glory to the Lord.