A pocket full of seeds, how surely they will be, flourishing planted trees, once I go to plant them…
That was the random thought I had today. I thought it might be the beginning of a poem, but it wasn't. It was a thought though and I knew it was going to go somewhere…most likely my blog. (my nearly completely abandoned, meager trifling of an attempt at a blog)…but here it is, so work with me huh? ;o)
I was instantly taken back in my mind to the day my son, who was in first grade at the time, brought home a Styrofoam cup with moist dirt packed ever so carefully to a halfway mark that I could see was placed on the cup for him. The outside decorated with drawings he'd done himself. A race car and some skid marks…very good ones at that!
He was so excited to show me “his dirt”. Well, it wasn’t dirt to him, it was “grass”…but I didn’t see grass, not even a hint of it. Only dirt, okay, “moist dirt”-but that is all I saw.
Carefully he placed it in the window sill as instructed by his teacher. Each morning he would water his dirt, and each afternoon he would come home excited to check on "his grass". He was confident and patient…these things take a little time, he would say. I was educated on germination, as he assured me that soon we would see something, even though, right now…its “hard to tell”. He knew that even though we couldn’t see what was happening under the soil, those little grass seeds were doing what grass seeds do, and eventually, they would “break soil”, and show themselves true to what they were intended to be. He had a choice of what to plant, he picked the seeds himself.
He could have planted flowers, or veggies, even weeds. He chose grass. He held the seeds in his tiny hands as he filled his cup, poked the hole where the seeds would rest until they were ready to “be seen”. He watered, and waited, and waited, and watered…I remember how excited he was when the seeds began to sprout! A little squeal of surprise, pride, and perhaps confidence proven?
To the casual on looker (very casual seeing that we are talking about watching grass grow here), this might seem rather mundane and trivial…but it was a lesson that, twenty years later as I was sitting in traffic with nothing else to do but let my mind wander, struck home with me!
How true is it that our Heavenly Father takes each one of us…pokes a hole in the “dirt” we sometimes call our lives, packs us in tight in a container made specific to creating the best circumstances for us to grow and then waters, and waits, and waits, and waters…ALWAYS knowing exactly what we are going to be? *even if it just looks like nothing more than dirt to us! Sure, some of us were early crops, like grass that grows quickly and becomes a soft place for others to rest upon. Some of us are sturdy oaks that take many, many years to grow, but have a reputation of strength and reliance. Some are delicate, beautiful flowers, so fragile, but so soothing to the senses. Others still are fruit bearers, yielding of themselves simply because they were created for the purpose of providing life giving sustenance to others. And what about those like the Willow tree? *my personal favorite, reputed to be strong enough to bend, a provider of shade in the heat of the day, with a whimsical sense of rhythm that dances with the wind.
It’s all rather beautiful really, and I wonder as I have this sense in my own life (again) of finally “breaking ground” and recognizing a sense of knowing that though I may not yet be certain, I know that He who planted me has always known exactly who I will be, when I will reach “full bloom” what my purpose is, how my life will be used and whether I will be shade to the weary, a soft place to rest, a symbol of strength…or, if I would be one to provide sustenance for life to others, possess a fragrant beauty that represents the skillful artistry of Him who made me, only to shout in silent whispers that would cause anyone to know, surely there IS a God to create something so intricate and unique out of “seemingly nothing more than a seed”.
Isn’t He just so amazing? I imagine when we finally go to "sprout" the Lord might let out that same little squeal, excited for us to be what we are meant to be, knowing full well what we are capable of, even when we are only sure that we are "budding"...and there's nothing more than growth ahead of us!
A pocket full of seeds, how surely they will be, flourishing planted trees, once I go to plant them…
That was the random thought I had today. I thought it might be the beginning of a poem, but it wasn't. It was a thought though and I knew it was going to go somewhere…most likely my blog. (my nearly completely abandoned, meager trifling of an attempt at a blog)…but here it is, so work with me huh? ;o)
I was instantly taken back in my mind to the day my son, who was in first grade at the time, brought home a Styrofoam cup with moist dirt packed ever so carefully to a halfway mark that I could see was placed on the cup for him. The outside decorated with drawings he'd done himself. A race car and some skid marks…very good ones at that!
He was so excited to show me “his dirt”. Well, it wasn’t dirt to him, it was “grass”…but I didn’t see grass, not even a hint of it. Only dirt, okay, “moist dirt”-but that is all I saw.
Carefully he placed it in the window sill as instructed by his teacher. Each morning he would water his dirt, and each afternoon he would come home excited to check on "his grass". He was confident and patient…these things take a little time, he would say. I was educated on germination, as he assured me that soon we would see something, even though, right now…its “hard to tell”. He knew that even though we couldn’t see what was happening under the soil, those little grass seeds were doing what grass seeds do, and eventually, they would “break soil”, and show themselves true to what they were intended to be. He had a choice of what to plant, he picked the seeds himself.
He could have planted flowers, or veggies, even weeds. He chose grass. He held the seeds in his tiny hands as he filled his cup, poked the hole where the seeds would rest until they were ready to “be seen”. He watered, and waited, and waited, and watered…I remember how excited he was when the seeds began to sprout! A little squeal of surprise, pride, and perhaps confidence proven?
To the casual on looker (very casual seeing that we are talking about watching grass grow here), this might seem rather mundane and trivial…but it was a lesson that, twenty years later as I was sitting in traffic with nothing else to do but let my mind wander, struck home with me!
How true is it that our Heavenly Father takes each one of us…pokes a hole in the “dirt” we sometimes call our lives, packs us in tight in a container made specific to creating the best circumstances for us to grow and then waters, and waits, and waits, and waters…ALWAYS knowing exactly what we are going to be? *even if it just looks like nothing more than dirt to us! Sure, some of us were early crops, like grass that grows quickly and becomes a soft place for others to rest upon. Some of us are sturdy oaks that take many, many years to grow, but have a reputation of strength and reliance. Some are delicate, beautiful flowers, so fragile, but so soothing to the senses. Others still are fruit bearers, yielding of themselves simply because they were created for the purpose of providing life giving sustenance to others. And what about those like the Willow tree? *my personal favorite, reputed to be strong enough to bend, a provider of shade in the heat of the day, with a whimsical sense of rhythm that dances with the wind.
It’s all rather beautiful really, and I wonder as I have this sense in my own life (again) of finally “breaking ground” and recognizing a sense of knowing that though I may not yet be certain, I know that He who planted me has always known exactly who I will be, when I will reach “full bloom” what my purpose is, how my life will be used and whether I will be shade to the weary, a soft place to rest, a symbol of strength…or, if I would be one to provide sustenance for life to others, possess a fragrant beauty that represents the skillful artistry of Him who made me, only to shout in silent whispers that would cause anyone to know, surely there IS a God to create something so intricate and unique out of “seemingly nothing more than a seed”.
Isn’t He just so amazing? I imagine when we finally go to "sprout" the Lord might let out that same little squeal, excited for us to be what we are meant to be, knowing full well what we are capable of, even when we are only sure that we are "budding"...and there's nothing more than growth ahead of us!
A pocket full of seeds, how surely they will be, flourishing planted trees, once I go to plant them…
