Remember my love was God’s promise to Delores through the symbol of a simple yellow rose.I knew they were mine. As I walked into the lobby of the hotel in Illinois, approaching the desk, I noticed a dozen yellow roses on the counter.I had no doubt in my mind, that they were for me. God had promised me through the years, He would remind me of his love towards me by sending roses by His people.In White Rock, Arizona, after ministering to the Native Americans on the reservation, a little girl pushed her way into the office to give me a picture she had drawn. Yes, it was a picture of a rose.I was the rose - still in the bud, standing tall in beauty. Then, the rose in bloom, emitted forth a sweet fragrance. But, the true aroma of the rose could only be enjoyed after the crushing...where the perfume was as ointment poured forth! I am the Father's Rose.