Rose for the Lady?

I looked up at the grimy windows of the place we should have been staying for the night. “They overbooked,” my coleader JD said, “they don’t have room for all of us, so we are back to square one.” 

We had just arrived to Shenzhen, China with one of our teams and were standing on the trash-littered city streets, all of our bags stacked on top of one another by a nearby tree. We quickly delegated groups, one to comb the streets for other options, one to find WiFi and search for Airbnb’s and hostels nearby, and one to stay and watch the luggage. 

Thankfully we had arrived in the early afternoon, so by the time darkness was covering us, we had made accommodations for our stay that night. Comically enough, it was with the same landlord as the first booking oversight and this living situation was equally unfortunate.  

Truly we were thankful to have a place to lay our head for the night, but that was all it would be we vowed, one night. 

The place was poorly managed, layers of dirt and cigarettes collected on the floors, counters and in the bathroom. The toilet didn’t flush so our adjoining room wreaked of urine and the cigarette smoke from our fellow bunk mates. I had set up my sleeping mat on the barren wooden panel of my bed when the team returned after having dinner together. One of the girls reached up to where I was perched on my bed, silently handing me a beautiful rose. I let out a surprised squeal of delight at this delicate, fragrant piece of nature. Putting some of my precious purified water in a tin cup, I placed the flower next to my head on the bed. How out of place it looked, in the midst of my filthy surroundings, and I found myself leaning over periodically through the night, taking deep breaths of its pure and lovely aroma. 

The next morning as we packed up our belongings, I took special care to hold my flower in my cup, despite the forty pounds of other baggage I was also carrying. It gave me so much comfort, feeling like a princess despite the fact that I was exiting a pungent building I had refused to shower in. I said to JD, “I’m asking God for a place tonight that has a clean bathroom, a large window to let in lots of natural light, and a smoke free room. This flower keeps reminding me that He wants to make me feel like a lady.” 

After walking downtown we settled into a nearby cafe and got to work on finding a better place for the week to come. I was outside with two other girls watching the bags and worshipping in the courtyard. Looking across the cobblestone road there was one storefront that seemed to jump out at me. There was nothing particularly spectacular about the place, the front windows were covered by a tower of cardboard boxes and there were many people inside unpacking supplies and packing them again in gift boxes. I peeked in, trying to figure out what God wanted me to do here. Feeling unsure I returned to our bags and kept my eye out for an opportunity. Within ten minutes a boy of three years came running out, enthusiastically sporting a Spider-Man onesie. 

Ahah! This was my in. I approached the little boy, smiling sweetly and waving hello. He began showing me what he was playing with and I joined in on his game of pretend. Within a few minutes the father came out, equipped with his google translator, and we began chatting. True to the Asian hospitality culture, he quickly invited me inside for some homemade rose tea. That’s right, ROSE tea. Sitting at the table I learned all about his business and family. He proudly explained the skincare company he partnered with (similar to Mary Kay). All of their products are naturally produced from roses and imported from Bulgaria. Once the tea was almost ready, I went outside and called to one of the girls, Arianna, who had also been feeling drawn to the store to join me. 

The tea was so lovely, a subtle hint of the rose was sweet and refreshing. Although it was currently chilly and stormy outside, Ari and I felt pampered as we drank the warm liquid, filling our bellies and spirits with a sense of contentment and comfort. Our mouths opened in shock as the man began giving us samples of his products, explaining the climate in his city and how easily they would travel in our bags. “What is happening!?” we kept saying enthusiastically, eyes wide and giggling to one another as he generously filled our dainty teacups with tea and our little gift bags with skincare products. We stayed for many hours, playing with his son, talking to him about the area and what we did for a living, and feeling like ladies. 

Finally, we returned to the cafe to check on our friends and housing options. They had been working hard and had hit many dead ends, and with the increasing darkness and rain, we were running out of time. 

Grabbing Ari, we set out into the downpour, my chucks quickly getting soaked and the cold seeping beneath my jacket. We walked down the street entering into a nearby hotel. It was a very upscale establishment, needless to say it was way out of our $5 per person budget and asking to negotiate would be a joke. We trudged further down to a place Ari had remembered seeing the day before, the Wayoo Hotel. We must have looked disheveled coming into the elegant lobby, our hair clinging to our skin, water dripping from our faces. No matter, it soon became clear the Lord had gone before us to prepare the way with favor. We looked at the price for a room with two double beds, $42 a night, that would never work. “Oh man it’s too much,” I explained, “we have sleeping pads, we just need floor space”. 

“Sleep on the floor?!” the clerk asked incredulously. “Sure,” I explained, “we can’t afford to pay for only two people per room.” After using google translator back and forth and giving her what I could only assume was a clear understanding of our needs, she gave me the price for the lowest room, one bed inside. I looked at her and shook my head, “I’m sorry, it’s still too much, we need four people to each room.” Without skipping a beat she asked, “what would you like to pay?” I gave her what I thought was a fare price, $27 usd per room (with four in each it came out to $6.7 usd per person). 

“Ok”, she smiled warmly. 

“Ok?!?” I asked enthusiastically and she smiled “yes”. 

It’s funny when you know the Lord and feel Him guiding your every step, it didn’t surprise me that He would provide a beautiful, comfortable place for us to stay within budget.  After returning to the hotel less than an hour later with the team and paying downstairs, I walked the freshly mopped floors to my room, feeling lighter than a cloud (even with my heavy bags still on). The air in the hotel was fresh, and after enjoying a warm shower, I settled into my soft bed with a luxurious comforter wrapping me up for the night. Looking across the room, a large window the length of the wall was framed by flowing curtains, ready to let in the soft glow of the sunrise in the morning. I sighed with contentment and thankfulness. 

Oh no, I suddenly remembered, my lovely rose! I had forgotten it on the streets next to the coffee shop…but now I was here! I was feeling fresh, clean and pretty myself, it’s purpose had been lived out. I felt Holy Spirit whisper to me as I settled back down to fall asleep, “let someone else be reminded by a rose of my love for them today.” 

I smiled, drifting off into a deep sleep, “thanks for taking such good care of me Daddy.” 

“Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matt 6:31-33).