In what lies the hope of the Bramble? It is nothing less than the patience and mercy of so good a Gardener. For how often the bramble tests the patience of the Gardner, growing unruly and feral among the plants of His well-tended garden. How patient He must be in his tender care of so unruly a bush.

It is a stubborn shrub, growing wild, always pushing back against the efforts of the Gardener. Poking and piercing him as he tends and cares for such a stubborn bush.

It is the love of the Gardener, however, that continues his work without delay. Trimming here and pruning there, despite the constant struggle, the scraping and poking, the rigidness of its many branches, all resisting the efforts of so good and patient a Gardener.

And yet, in this struggle, the bramble begins to thrive, to grow ever more docile before the tender care of the Gardener. The bramble too learns patience with itself, trusting in the Gardener’s wisdom, his knowledge of how to tend and care for each plant in His garden. No plant escapes His touch, His tender loving care.

It pleases the Gardener to care for his garden, to lovingly tend to them, each according to their need, not leaving any to grow so unruly as to overtake and smother the other plants in his tender care. No, each thrives under his loving care, growing where his wills, for their good and for his glory. For the garden is his most precious belonging, his tender care, his delight.

He loves each of the plants in the garden, desiring them to bloom in due season. It is his pleasure to watch them grow and flourish under his loving gaze and tender care.

Though the bramble is the least of all the plants in the garden, for it is the most unruly, it is for the Gardeners good pleasure that he patiently tends to it. In its littleness, the unruly bush grows tall and strong, wrapping its crooked branches around the great tree in the middle of the garden. For in its shade, he finds rest from the heat of the day and cover in times of storms.

 The delight of this feral shrub is the patient care and inexhaustible mercy of the Gardner. For in what, and in whom can such a wild bush entrust its heart. For only is the tender care of so gentle a Gardner can such an unruly bush find its hope. Not trusting in itself, nor surrendering to its unruly nature, this lowly shrub takes rest in the Gardner’s patient care. For in time, in the care of so great a Gardner, will this wild bush bloom and blossom at its appointed time. This is the goal of the Gardner, the purpose of his pruning, despite the suffering he may endure from such a thorny bramble. For it is through this suffering and pain that the bramble of the lord comes to know his worth as equal to the Rose and the Lily.

“O merciful Gardener, be patient with my unruly nature, see not what I am of myself, but see, in what you see and love in your garden, a tender bush, waiting for it’s time to blossom and bloom. A treasured bramble among the roses and lilies. Continue, I pray, your tender work, so, that loved by so sweet a Gardner, I may come at long last, surrendered to your will and to your loving care, the beautiful bramble of the lord you have made me to be. May I always flourish under your care and grow strong and docile to the hand of the patient Gardener. That one day, by your loving care, I may bear the fruit you desire of me. That the sweet aroma of my flowers may delight you and so please you, you who have been so patient with me. Let it be, not as I will, but as you will. Amen.”