Handpicked flowers I grew…

It was a hot evening, the kind of summer hot where the day seems to hang around even after the sun starts going down.

But I remember walking around outside with my watering can, watering all of my rescued flowers, one by one…Everything was quieter. The kids weren’t needing something every two seconds. There wasn’t anywhere I needed to rush of to. I was just walking around my yard, checking on the things I had planted, watering them, snipping a few flowers here and there…

Somewhere along the way, I looked down at what I was holding. A bouquet. Flowers I had grown myself. I know that probably sounds like such a small thing…They weren’t perfect, I certainly didn’t know what I was doing. I have never gardened in my life. I just decided that these clearance plants at Walmart deserved a chance.

Some of them I moved and repotted more times than they appreciated, pruned them to near nothing, worried I had watered them too much, or not enough… I was learning as I went. But there I was, standing in my yard holding something beautiful that had grown in places where, not that long before, there was only dirt.

I think that’s why this little ordinary evening stayed with me. There was no huge revelation. No big life changing moments, just quiet. Birds chirping, dogs barking, dirt under my feet, a pair of scissors in my hand, and flowers I had somehow grown.

I think sometimes we are so busy waiting for God to do something big that we miss the tiny evidence that He has already been growing something all around us…and maybe even in us. I didn’t notice it then, but looking back now, I was growing too. Learning to slow down, learning to notice, learning that I didn’t have to know exactly what I was doing before I started. Learning to tend to what was right in front of me and trust God with the growing.

I brought these flowers inside that night, and put them in a jar by the kitchen sink. The smallest things brought me so much joy, as I stood there washing the dishes that night. Now looking at the picture, I see more than flowers. I see evidence that little things, faithfully tended to, really do bloom….And maybe that’s when I realized that I was beginning to bloom, too.

I am thankful God faithfully walked by my side, when I could see nothing blooming. Now I understand he was just getting my roots started… He may have had to prune me a few times too. There were seasons when I probably looked at my own life the same way I looked at some of those clearance plants— wondering if anything beautiful could still grow from here. But God knew.

So now when I look at that little bouquet sitting by my kitchen sink, I see more than handpicked flowers I grew. I see a reminder that blooming takes time. Pruning has a purpose, and roots can be growing even when there isn’t a single flower yet.

By the Grace of God we have made it here. Slowly but surely, He is still growing me.