I'd rather pick roses without thorns, Lord, a bright and fragrant, beautiful bouquet to decorate my world with pretty pleasures- the brambles and briers, I'll throw away.
But you say I must pluck the thorns as well, Lord, although they'll pierce my heart and sting my soul; You say that pain's a part of peace, you tell me that breaking is part of being whole.
You say that if I truly want to know you, I must count everything but Christ a loss;
You ask me to exchange my way for yours, Lord, to trade contentment's kingdom for a cross.
And so I come before you weak, but willing; I seek to walk your path, and not my own; I choose to share the crown of thorns you wore, Lord, until I kneel before your royal throne.
~B.J. Hoff