I need oil,“ said an ancient monk; so he planted an olive sapling. ”Lord,“ he prayed, ”it needs rain that its tender roots may drink and swell. Send gentle showers.“ And the Lord sent gentle showers. ”Lord, my tree needs sun too. Send sun, I pray.“ And the sun shone, gilding the dripping clouds. ”Now frost, my Lord, to brace its tissues," cried the monk. And behold, the little tree stood sparkling with frost, but at evening it died.
Then the monk sought the counsel of a brother monk, and told his strange experience. “I, too, planted a little tree,” the brother monk said, “and see! it thrives well. I entrust my tree to its God. He who made it knows better what it needs than a man like me. I laid no condition. I fixed not ways or means and I pray “Lord, send what it needs. Storm or sunshine, wind, rain, or frost. You have made it and you know it more.”
Yes, leave it with Him, The lilies all do and they grow—They grow in the rain and they grow in the, dew. They grow in the darkness and they grow in the sunshine, revealed by the light. Yes, leave it with Him for you are His care and He knows more.
- Unknown Author