Tulips will only bloom if they have endured a freeze. ~Stasi Eldredge, Becoming Myself
Grapes grow out plump
sweet wine on my tongue
carrots cut crisp, thick with orange
peas perk, I snap and crunch
Lettuce leaves tender, rich, delicate
the zucchini is stew
with thick tomato sauce from the vine
but not yet.
Dirt dark earth
shoved. caressed. worked. chopped. ripped.
tiny seeds sprinkled in, mixed with hope
no growth without a mess of mud and faith
nor without the Gardener’s work.
Last night I prayed hope seeds into the heart of a suffering friend, despairing. Today I planted seeds in the ground, trusting. Then water on top, soaking down deep. I plant in faith, because I’ve seen His faithfulness. I’ve sowed and watered and weeded and cared, yet I am nothing.
I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. ~1 Corinthians 3:6-7
“It’s not growing yet,” Daddy says with a teasing smile. We planted an hour ago. He turns off the hose. My father is the gardener, it’s true. But my Father is the Gardener (John 15:1).
But I know they will sprout to life. I’ve experienced it–the springing forth, the miracle that happens in that deep cavern underground. The beginning of new life is not seen, no evidence. It is felt within. That life born in darkness, growth unfolded in the womb, minus light. But not long. Light comes not underneath. Life grows up to the Light, birthed out of darkness. Only the commence is black. But considerable. With no tomb of darkness, there is no life in the light.
He changes times and seasons…
He reveals deep and hidden things;
he knows what lies in darkness,
and light dwells with him.
I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born, declares the LORD.
It’s a season. Of planting and hoping and suffering and believing and persevering and waiting and seeing and being.
Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,
thought the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food…
yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.
The Sovereign LORD is my strength.
As my hands grasp the rake that sows, my heart clings to His faithfulness.
I plant hope. My heart cries, growth! And I pray for the sustaining food, the nourishment of life.