Many years ago there was a monk who needed olives so he planted an olive sapling. After he finished planting it, he prayed, "Lord, my tree needs rain so its tender roots may drink and grow. Send gentle showers." And the Lord sent gentle showers. Then the monk prayed, "Lord, my tree needs sun." And the sun shone, gilding the once-dripping clouds. "Now send frost, dear Lord, to strengthen its branches," cried the monk. And soon the little tree was covered in sparkling frost, but by evening it had died.
Then the monk sought out a brother monk in his cell and told him of his strange experience. After hearing the story, the other monk said, "I also have planted a little tree. See how it is thriving! But I entrust my tree to God. He who made it knows better than a man like me what it needs. I gave God no constraints or conditions, except to pray, "Lord, send what it needs -- whether that be a storm or sunshine, wind, rain, or frost. You made it, and you know best what it needs.'"
Yes, leave it with Him,
The lilies all do.
And they all grow---
They grow in the rain,
And they grow in the dew---
Yes, they grow:
They grow in the darkness, all hid in the night---
They grow in the sunshine, revealed by the light---
Still they grow.
Yes, leave it with Him,
It's more dear to His heart,
You will know,
Than the lilies that bloom,
Or the flowers that start
'Neath the snow:
Whatever you need, if you seek it in prayer,
You can leave it with Him -- for you are in His care.
YOU, you know.**
