A young, new preacher was walking with an older, more seasoned preacher

in the garden one day. Feeling a bit insecure about what God had for him to 

do, he was asking the older preacher for some advice.

The older preacher walked up to a rosebush and handed the young preacher

a rosebud and told him to open it without tearing off any petals. The young

preacher looked in disbelief at the older preacher and was trying to figure 

Noticing the younger preacher's inability to unfold the rosebud without

tearing it, the older preacher began to recite the following  poem...

It is only a tiny rosebud,

A flower of God's design;

But I cannot unfold the petals

With these clumsy hands of mine.

The secret of unfolding flowers

Is not known to such as I.

GOD opens this flower so sweetly,

Then in my hands they die.

If I cannot unfold a rosebud,

This flower of God's design,

Then how can I have the wisdom

To unfold this life of mine?

So I'll trust in Him for leading

Each moment of my day.

I will look to him for His guidance

Each step of the pilgrim way.

The pathway that lies before me,

Only my Heavenly Father knows.

I'll trust Him to unfold the moments,

Just as He unfolds the rose.

"I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something.