A young, new ustadh (teacher) was walking with an older, more seasoned ustadh (teacher) in the garden one day. Feeling a bit insecure about what Allah had for him to do, he was asking the older ustadh for some advice. The older ustadh walked up to a rosebush and handed the young ustadh a rosebud and told him to open it without tearing off any petals. The young ustadh looked in disbelief at the older ustadh and was trying to figure out what a rosebud could possibly have to do with his wanting to know the will of Allah for his life and ministry.

But because of his great respect for the older ustadh, he proceeded to try to unfold the rose, while keeping every petal intact... It wasn't long before he realized how impossible this was to do. Noticing the younger ustadh's inability to unfold the rosebud without tearing it, the older ustadh began to recite the following poem...

It is only a tiny rosebud,
A flower of Allah'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.
ALLAH opens this flower so sweetly,
Then in my hands they die.

If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of Allah's design,
Then how can I have the wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?

So I'll trust in Allah for leading
Each moment of my day.
I will look to Allah for His guidance
Each step of the way.

The pathway that lies before me,
Only Allah knows.
I'll trust Him to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose.