GUARANTEED TO GROW

Faux plants adorn my little brick courtyard, much to the dismay of my green-thumbed friends.

But I am not ashamed; for I learned long ago that I am no gardener, let alone someone that can sprout life in my own soul. 

It’s not that I’m afraid to get my hands dirty - quite the contrary. Heaven knows I have tried to produce my own blooms. I have dug shallow graves, patted seeds down in hope, only for them to grow weak and be scorched dry, crumbling between my gloved fingers.

Those same garden gloves, stained dark and stiff, now lay dormant in a drawer. They have traveled with me from place to place, a reminder of every failed attempt at which I willed beauty to take root and flourish around me.

I still keep them handy, just in case a thorny weed should threaten the soft peace where I now rest here in my little corner of Eden, knowing the Master Gardener is always at work. For I have found that God alone can bring life out of the dust and gravel I once kneeled on.

And it is something worth waiting for.

So I watch in great expectation for the promised mystery of spring to pierce the tired winter; for the sunny daffodils and crimson tulips, buried long ago, to raise their heads and open their arms to the Creator Who calls them to come forth. 

And although I knew life would one day appear, I am always caught a little off-guard and deeply humbled by the faithfulness I have witnessed in my own backyard.  

“You’ve transplanted them into your heavenly courtyard, where they are thriving before you, for in Your presence they will still overflow and be anointed. Even in their old age they will stay fresh, bearing luscious fruit and abiding faithfully.”

Psalm 92:12-14 TPT