The Flower Below the Thorn
Matthew xiii. 7 v.
“Some fell among thorns; and the thorns sprung up, and choked them.”
The seed fell among thorns; it fell into a heart which had not been emptied of its troubles. If the seed had been there first, it would have made all the difference. There is a place for the thorn. Every rose has its thorn; but the rose is in the bud, and the thorn is on the surface. Christ had His thorn — His crown of thorns; but peace was at the root, and they could not mar His beauty. It is not a question of whether I shall or shall not have trouble. I must have trouble; I cannot escape it; I may not safely pray to escape it. My life without the cross would be a poor life, a maimed life, a worthless life. But my cross is not to be my first visitor. It is to have something below it, underlying it, bearing it. I am to wear my thorn where Christ wore it — on a heart of love. No one can forbid the thorn to occupy, if only the flower shall preoccupy; trouble may visit my house, if the Master has first come in. But do not let the trouble lie below. Do not let it be next the heart, closest to the breast. Do not let there be nothing beneath it, nothing to support it. Do not let it rest on the threshold and bar the entrance to the soul. Everything depends on the entrance; be sure you plant your flower ere you admit your thorn.
Come, then, into my heart, Thou Rose of Sharon; be the first visitor of all my year. Let my thorn fall upon Thy life — not Thy life upon my thorn. If Thou fallest on my thorn, Thy fragrance shall be broken; I shall see no beauty that I can desire in Thee. But if Thou shalt lie next to my heart, I can let my thorn fall on Thee. It will not break Thy fragrance; it may even catch Thy fragrance; it may become a part of Thee. Come into my heart; come and anticipate the thorn. Come with the star of the morning, ere the heat and the burden arise. Come with the song of the lark, ere the wheels of traffic are heard. Come with the glow of the east, where the day is yet far from its setting. Come with the promise of youth, where the bow is apart from the flood. And the star shall lift the burden, and the song shall help the traffic, and the glow shall gild the setting, and the bow shall assuage the flood. There is room for my thorn above Thy seed; let not Thy seed fall upon my thorn.