Ethel's Writing's

The Yellow Rose



It was Wednesday January the 20th that the girls and I took the box of nine roses to Bible study. My plan was to put one on each table for the Seniors Are Us Lunch on Thursday. Jane would put nine stickers under the saucers on the table and have the winners take a rose home.

God had other plans.

There was a young girl in our small group. I will call her Sunshine. She had some health issues and our group had prayed for her the week before. Sandy, Jane and I gave her a yellow Friendship Rose. She said that she would be moving out west the following week and that this would be the last time that she would be with us.

Later on that morning, we gave a rose to two other people in need.

The girls stayed after the women’s group was over to set the tables for the next day. There were five tables and I had six roses.

I gave the six roses away on Thursday.


I talked with my older sister Barbara yesterday. She said it was important to set some time aside each week for myself. I have the tendency to give, give, give, but my cup had run dry and I had nothing left to give.

I talked to my younger sister Kathy later in the day and she told me that she had seen a large cup overflowing with oil. She said, “Ethel, your cup has run dry and that you needed to spend time filling it up so that it could overflow once more with oil.” I needed to spend more time alone with God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit.

I told Jane and Sandra​, that I needed to slow down. I told them that I would screen all my phone calls and not answer the phone if we were watching a movie together or doing Bible study any more.


I was sewing hands for the puppets we make that night and the phone rang. It was a friend. I no sooner hung up the phone and it rang again.

It was a 519 number without a name. I thought “O no, a telemarketer.”

I was wrong. It was Sunshine from out west. My phone number was on the bottom of the rose that we gave her and she wanted to thank me for praying for her and giving her the rose. She said the rose had blessed her.

She had arrived at her destination with her family. She was still in pain and hurting. I was able to pray for her.


God please fill my cup to overflowing so that I am never too busy to stop and listen to one of your hurting lambs. It is not about me but You Jesus. I want to be like You Jesus. You never crossed the road so that You didn’t have to reach out and touch someone who was hurting.

Help me use wisdom.

© Ethel Wicksey

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