Sowing Seeds

Seeds. We plant them all the time. Metaphorically speaking we may plant them without even knowing we're doing it. Other times we plant very deliberately. Sometimes they grow, sometimes they don't. Sometimes they lay dormant. There are prayers I've prayed that are like seeds that have yet to show signs of growth. They were planted, tended, watered and yet nothing. Or they grew in ways I never expected. Growing yet never producing. Growing and then perishing. Some growing and blossoming. The way of it all is a mystery to me.

As mysterious as tucking a small hard seed into the ground and covering it with soil and faith. I don't know why it works. It just does. I'll never understand the times things I nurtured self-destructed. I'll always wonder why growth is so tenuous sometimes and so vigorous another. I'll marvel when the outcomes are greater than I've ever hoped. I'll weep as needed over losses that defy understanding.

 

I'll plant seeds of hope and gratitude. I'll plant because I believe in the possibilities. I'll pray over those planted long, long ago and those planted just recently. I'll delight when they break ground, and marvel at the miracle of it all. Trusting in the process of growth.