Light pink. Delicate, soft petals. The fragrance could make you swoon. We called it Paneer Roja back home in India—a special kind of rose with a distinct scent unlike any other.

As a little girl, I would wait eagerly for the rose flower vendor who came early in the mornings, just before school, ringing the bell on his bicycle. He carried a large twig basket securely fastened to the back carrier, filled with soft pink roses.

Each rose was uniquely beautiful, I remember, but I would sift through hundreds just to pick the perfect one for me—much to the vendor’s dismay. It probably cost only a fraction of a penny, but it made my entire day.

The worst part was not being able to wear it in my hair at school. I went to a strict convent where pretty flowers weren’t allowed to make ordinary girls look pretty. Still, I would tuck the rose safely into my backpack, making sure it wouldn’t get crushed, and take it with me. I’d often take it out during the day, just to smell it.

Now, decades later, I had almost forgotten the joy those roses once brought me—until one morning, I was awakened by a dream filled with roses. They were strikingly similar to the ones from my childhood, yet different—layer upon layer of delicate petals, forming the most uniquely multilayered pink roses I had ever seen.

Coincidentally, I had a medical check-up scheduled that day for a new job opportunity—one I wasn’t even sure I wanted. I was hesitant about returning to research, a path I had deliberately walked away from ten years ago. I prayed about it and waited on God for many days to help me decide and there were no signs and  not even a whisper.

Even finding this job felt like a supernatural coincidence. I kept thinking about a woman professor I had met nearly 15 years ago at a renowned university in another state. I didn’t know why she kept coming to mind, but I decided to send her an email anyway.

To my surprise, she had moved to the very state I now lived in—just a year ago. Not only that, but she warmly invited me to visit her lab. She remembered my earlier research and said she had always been impressed by it. She asked if I would give a short presentation for her graduate students and fellow faculty members.

The next two days were a blur—spent remotely accessing data from 15 years ago on a computer back in India, with the help of my son. Somehow, I pulled together a solid presentation and, to my amazement, delivered it with the same passion I had during my PhD dissertation defense.

Apparently, she was blown away. As I was politely thanking her and preparing to leave, she looked at me and said, “We would love for you to be part of our team. It would be a great honor if you could join us.”

I was spellbound, awestruck, and a little baffled. This was one of the leading endocrinologists in the field, offering me a place on her team.

So you can see why I felt like I had been thrown into this opportunity—one I didn’t want to refuse, yet hesitated to embrace fully. And as always, I turned to God—seeking wisdom, seeking a green signal.

That morning, as I drove to the appointment with a friend—who had gently convinced me to at least go for the medical check-up before making any decisions or signing paperwork—we found ourselves talking about everything that had happened. It was a bright, sunny day, and we had a one-hour drive ahead of us.

I told her about the dream I had the night before—the one with the beautifully multilayered pink roses. The memory of it still lingered, vivid and fragrant in my mind. From there, our conversation naturally drifted to deeper questions: Was this where God was leading me? Was this His plan for me at this particular juncture in my life?

I checked into the doctor’s office and was soon led by a nurse to the patient room to wait for the doctor. As I walked in, my eyes were immediately drawn to a picture beautifully framed on the wall—a close-up photograph of a multilayered pink rose.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I sat down, still stunned, and turned to my left. There was another photograph—again, the same kind of rose from my dream. The very roses that had filled my heart with wonder just the night before.

In that quiet room, it was as if God whispered to me through those images: I’m here. I’m leading you. He had sent me my favorite roses to show me the way forward, a clear direction for this season of my life—even though I didn’t have all the answers.

And so, I chose to trust Him. I accepted the job.

It was truly a unique opportunity—at a highly renowned university, surrounded by extraordinary talent. A role that would challenge me, grow me, and take me to the next level in both my career and my life. Most significantly, it marked a return to the United States for my son and me, after nearly a decade away.

God speaks in many ways—through a friend, a preacher, His Word, through nature, and sometimes, though rarely, in an audible voice. But once in a while, He chooses something deeply personal. He sends your favorite roses in a dream, because He knows you. He knows what speaks to your heart.

He only wants the best for you and gently nudges….

This is the way. Walk in it.

Scriptures

John 16:13 ESV

When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth, for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things that are to come.

Isaiah 42:16 ESV  

And I will lead the blind in a way that they do not know, in paths that they have not known I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground. These are the things I do, and I do not forsake them.

Psalm 119:105 ESV

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.