A Small Wild Rose
Just a small wild rose; is a pretty sight to see,
Even when no one seems to notice it still continues to be.
Just a tiny flower that perfumes the air,
With a pleasant aroma to with others share.
What good is this rose doing you say?
Who cares if it just dies and fades away?
What is it worth if it does not grace the halls of fame?
Why does it still on the bush remain?
Just like the small rose we may be,
But we are well known to Christ the King.
We wonder why He reached out His hand.
And does not overlook us, we cannot understand
Why is it He picked us to His heavenly home grace?
Why does He offer us the most valuable place?
I shall be thankful I am like the tiny rose instead,
Of the large fragrant ones or much pride will fill my head.
I’m so thankful He allows me to be of Him apartI may be just like a small wild rose; but, He holds me in His heart.
When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained;What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him? For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour.