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| {what a difference a month can make} |
“If unmistakable personal revelation comes that we need to go on the road, I’ll do it,” my mom told my dad thirty five and a half years ago. Well, the revelation came and so did we. I began the slow process of un-planting roots here in the heat of the desert.
I really didn't know any different I guess, since I was so young at the time of my families escapades with the Ice Follies. The first time I remember living in a house was when we lived in California when I was about ten years old.
That first spring, I began the literal planting of my small garden plot. It was in a rain ditch that had a lot of dirt in it since it hardly ever rained that year. Much like my brother, sister, and me, the radishes, carrots and beans we planted seemed to barely survive that first long summer. In the fall (and I use that term loosely!), we pulled up our plants with discouragement, and decided to try again the next spring. Once again, the plants slugged through that second summer, barely producing much for our efforts. But that fall found us too busy to pull up the plants, so they stayed in the rocky soil, and to my amazement, come Thanksgiving, they were overflowing.
Those same plants are still in my memory, years later. They weren’t the prettiest looking, and some times, they sat dormant, looking half-dead, but I know now that if I just waited a while, gave them some time and some water, they produced again.
I’ve been thinking of the plants lately as I’ve both struggled and loved the last 4 months with a lot of stuff going on at my house. Most days I am like those plants in the summer—not the prettiest looking and definitely not the most “productive.” I am trying to have patience that my fruitful days will return.
Tell me about the different seasons of your life, and the ebb and flow of productivity in your life. What helps you have patience with the challenges of different seasons? I am learning that there are times of great productivity in my life and times of hanging on by my fingernails where I measure progress by how recently I showered or by the height of the Mt. Laundry in my room. I have found that the life of young motherhood cannot be measured by to-do lists, but that end-of-the-day have-done lists can boost my mood.
Mostly, I have learned that taking my days one at a time and learning to see what is, shows me which plants are truly flowering, and which are dormant for a season. The pruning can be painful, but there is so much love in every step of the cultivation process. I try to tap into that love, to whisper “baby steps” when things seem at a stand still, to learn something every day that periods of stillness, of apparent dormancy can often belie growth of the most amazing kind.
“Be still and know that I am God.”
I find that the more I am able to give necessary time to stillness, the better I am able to be patient at the seasons before me and the direction of the winds.
