Uprooted, Transplanted

Sometimes you have to dig deep. Sometimes you have to be willing to be uprooted. Sometimes your Plan A gets delayed and you have to resort to Plan B. Being the sentimental type I get easily attached. I have a plant of my Mom's that was her Mom's before that. It exists on minimal care and maximum neglect. It rarely gets fertilized. I need to give it more love. Who of us doesn't need a little more love?

Today I want to talk about Ralph. Ralph is a plant that goes where ever I go. He was a gift from a dear neighbor...you guessed it, whose name was Ralph. My Ralph came from Ralph's Grandmother's yard on the East coast many many years ago. He's traveled all across the US like a 3 dimensional Flat Stanley in plant form. I've moved four times with Ralph. He's always thrived. When I dug him up in June I put him in a pot and promised him a place to put down roots later this year. I've tended him all summer. He's looking a little forlorn.

It occurred to me I'd have to let him go for a while for his own good. We have to do that sometimes. I'm not good at letting go. Maybe none of us are. He's not thriving. So, Plan B became the only option. We let things we love go sometimes so they can go, or grow, the way they are meant to. We often don't much like it. Sometimes we get them back, sometimes we have to wish them well and leave them behind. I'm counting on going back for Ralph somewhere down the road. I'm trusting he will thrive in the meantime. 

We too need to thrive in the meantime. Our "meantime" can be a time of uncertainty, of loss, of grief, of hope, of growth. We have to examine our "meantime" carefully for signs of growth, for signs of despair. Take it out, hold it gently, and if necessary plant it somewhere safe. It may not be in the place you hoped. And...sometimes that just has to be okay. 

So I tucked Ralph in today with some of the dirt of his past, in a safe place and I'm willing to let go for a while. 

Being uprooted is hard, being transplanted is hard. Letting go of the outcome is hard. All of these things are part of the bigger plan. The one we pray is a gentle plan. The one we know can be unexpected and impossible to fathom. I longed to plant Ralph in a yard of my own. I'm releasing that dream for the moment. And, in this meantime, this time of growth, I'll let go and let God. God will provide for Ralph and I. In ways yet to unfold.