I can't remember the name of it, but it was gorgeous when I got it.
I nurtured and cared for it, watered it, gave it food and light.
One day it started to look saggy. It must need more water, I thought.
I watered. It looked worse.
Aha! It needs transplanting, I thought.
I went to A.C. Moore and got an adorable oversized teacup planter.
I repotted my plant in it, watered and waited.
It still didn't look good.
Life got busy, and I forgot about my wilting flora.
By the time I remembered to water the now-dry soil, my whole plant looked better. Perkier. But that would be crazy backwards, I thought.
So I watered it more.
The next time it got bone dry, I noticed the same thing. A happy plant awaited me. Right before I gave it some water.
Finally something told me that enough was enough. I decided I would wait it out and see if my theory of dry soil restoration would prove to be true. I resisted the temptation to dump on it from the watering can as I quenched the obvious thirst of the plants around it. I forced myself to walk away.
When I could stand it no longer, I got in close to inspect how my experiment was going. There in the crumbling, dusty, hard-as-rock soil were large shoots of new growth, fresh leaves, and buds ready to bloom. The existing foliage was looking greener than ever, and instead of draping lazily over the edge of the teacup, the flowers from before were starting to spring to life and head towards the sky again.
The parched soil was enabling life and growth to flourish.
How often we are there. Life can be dry sometimes. We think we are spinning our wheels, just waiting to be watered again, but oh my, what's happening in us and in our hearts during the dry spells. That's often when we learn the most and the best about God and how awesome He is.
The water will come.
Growth can happen in the hard rocky soil of our lives and our days.
And we flourish.
Posted by Beth Coulton