in between growth

I love plants; succulents to be exact. It first started as a hobby between me and my granny. We would go to Walmart and pick out the weirdest plant we could find. Then we would go visit each other and check on our plants. We would share what worked and what we needed to do better, and it became our special thing together.

Even though Granny isn’t here to give me her advice anymore, I have learned that plants are pretty clear in what they need. If the soil is too dry or just not right, we soon find out by the lack of security in the roots. If there is too much sun, we soon realize it by the dried-up leaves that snap off the second we touch them. If there is too much water, we know by the yellow coloring and their sudden withdrawal to live.

I have heard a lot of analogies and comparisons about how we are like plants. Most of them beautifully talk about growth and how the faithfulness of a gardener represents God. While both of those things are accurate, we typically leave out what growth looks like. We like to talk about the faithfulness of God in reference to a perfect looking plant. One that has never seen a day without water and is fully bloomed out. We skip over the in-between process that truly defines growth.

Have you ever thought about what a plant does in the winter? Even indoor plants will pause their growth due to the significant loss of sun. During this period, watering them every day is neglectful. They actually need to dry out in order to survive and have full growth in the spring.

I have found that in our own lives, we have similar seasons of growth and drought to endure. We may find ourselves fully rooted and in the exciting season of growth. The rain falls in a steady stream and we discover new blooms about ourselves every day. Some of us maybe have just been re-potted and are adjusting to the new soil below us. We feel out of place and uncomfortable in the new environment causing us to sprout leaves that are unrecognizable and need to be trimmed. Maybe some of us are even beginning to wither and wonder when the next drink of water or ray of light will fall on us.

Unlike plants, we get the choice of dependance on the Gardner. God has placed us all in a variety of pots with a variety of soil and all of this has been intentional, with our specific growth in mind. Even though I know this to be true, I find that I have a hard time trusting in the gardening process.

I think, has He forgotten that I need water?

Is He for sure that this is the right soil?

Shouldn’t I be in a bigger pot by now?

These questions often lead to self-sufficient solutions:

Well, I will just try to water myself.

I will just start looking for another spot to grow.

I will just forget about this season and start looking on to the next.

But that is not our role. We are to sit still, to allow ourselves to root in the place that He has us, to trust that if a shift in light is what we need that He can and will provide it. A plant naturally knows to do this. Whenever a cloud rolls over the sun, they don’t strain their stems, striving to force further growth. They just know that no sun or less water means it is time for less growth. So they conserve their energy up and they wait on the next drink of water or beam of light to come upon them and when it finally comes, they burst forth with growth.

What would it look like in our lives, if we depended on God like the plants depend on the weather. What if we trusted that the season of drought we are in is being used to bring forth possibly the greatest season of growth we will ever know? God knows exactly what type of plant we are. He knows what environments we thrive in and what will be a challenge for us. He knows when it is time to grow and when we need to be cut back a little. Unlike us, He is not forgetful or lazy or neglecting. He is the perfect gardener, and we really do just have to sit back and be dependent.

So, let’s choose to grow, trusting Him in seasons of growth and in seasons of drought. We will wake up one day soon completely shocked at the beautiful blooming plant we have turned out to be.