Miss Havisham's Roses

There is a poignant beauty in Miss Havisham’s roses. (see Dickens, Great Expectations).

They still speak of a love which was strong. But in Miss Havisham’s case, it was a love without sacrifice, a love without commitment, a love that ultimately wavered, leaving Miss Havisham a Miss for all of her life.

I always refer to roses at this state as Miss Havisham’s roses, but in fact mine came from a husband who has loved sacrificially, totally committed, unconditionally. So they are not, strictly speaking, anything like her roses.

The beauty of the Cross is that it speaks of a love that is so strong, so unconditional, so sacrificial, so committed, that it never wilts nor dies but just remains there for us all. As we cling to the Cross we cling to the Lord who gave his all for the whole world, whose love transcends time, nationality, religion and gender, unconditional, eternal.

I love Miss Havisham’s roses, and fresher ones too, but even more, I love the Cross. Full of gratitude to the God who died for me.