One summer, our neighbor, Mary, gave Sis a beautiful gift. She noticed Sis’s desire to garden and decided to give her this unique pot with vines to return yearly. This way, Sis could watch them grow, year after year. Sis was very thoughtful with her new task. She watered it daily and watched intently, waiting for the tiny flowers to arrive. Although the green vines were lovely, they did not bloom.
For the last several months, I have struggled in everything and every aspect of life. In my time of grief, I ignored Sis’s pot, abandoning it and all the memories that went along with it. I didn’t water it and even left it on the side of the house that receives absolutely no sun. It was painful to look at, although I didn’t have the heart to throw it away. The vines were long gone and held nothing but old memories and dried dirt. It was lifeless.
Towards the end of July that year, after a period of miserable heat, I felt this tug in my heart, “Move the pot. Move it over with others, and you will see.” I ignored the words and the urging, making a more significant effort to avoid that side of the house altogether.
A few days later, an event in my life forced me to travel toward that side of the house. The place I didn’t want to go and the memories I didn’t like to acknowledge. Walking around the house, I felt the familiar nudge to look down and see. Slightly annoyed, I peered into the pot, fully expecting to see nothing but the cracked, dusty dirt. But today held a different ending. The tiniest green plants in the corner of this pot struggle to push themselves through the dry, hardened soil. I grabbed the jar and held it up, straining my eyes to view this perfect little plant, forcefully trying to grow. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
I felt my Lord near and heard his whisper, “Give it water and watch it grow.” This moment marked a new beginning. One of growth, not just for this tiny plant but for our family. Soon, our Prayers were being answered, and movement began to happen. Doors were opening once closed, and I could see God’s hand working for our good.
A few weeks later, I struggled to get my little guy and our bags into the house as quickly as possible while the rain poured down all around us. Quickly, I reached down to gather our remaining items and absently glanced down at the pot. To my amazement, a beautiful flower budded on the single vine. It was beautiful, and I was reminded again to keep going. Although there is a season for everything, today, I choose hope.