What we "see" is often determined by what we expect to see. In looking at something, we often miss opportunities to see real beauty.
Last week, Erin and I were in the back yard. Along the back fence, there is one single rose bush. I didn't plant it as I am not really partial to roses. The flowers are fine, but rose bushes "bite," so I stay on high alert around them. Erin called me to come over to the bush while I was finishing my work in another part of the yard. "Look at that!" she said, and I was shocked at the size of the thorns on the stems of the roses. "Yikes," I said. "Be careful and stay away from that." She then frowned and told me that wasn't what she was talking about. She reached out and showed me a lone rose bud, just opening, and said, "This is what I was talking about."
I could have missed that beautiful bud if I hadn't had it pointed out to me. If I had kept focusing on the thorns, I would have never seen the beauty that red rose bud was ready to share. I expected to see thorns and that's all I saw.
We sometimes do the same kind of thing when we are "looking" at our lives. PWS brings thorns, mean ones, into our lives and especially into the lives of our children. Our challenge is to look beyond the thorns and see the beautiful buds, to look beyond the symptoms and see the beautiful child. Thorns are something a rose has, and are not the essence of the rose. The essence of the rose is beauty, as it is with our children. We know the thorns are there, and we do everything we can to eliminate their effect, but we call it a rose bush, not a thorn bush, because it's the roses that's define the bush. It's the roses that really matter.
I sure wish I had seen that bud first. 🙂
Rachel–mom to a precious little rose bud who I love dearly, thorns and all