My little plants must hate me.
After one of the wettest springs our state had seen in decades, the sky compensated by becoming blue steel. Since June, the ground has baked. The homes sitting on this clay have cracked, and the plants have shriveled.
And I let them fall to dust. Afraid of the mosquitoes that swarm in our backyard, I watched them die from the window.
There was a season when I suspected that God was like that–watching me from behind glass while I withered from bitterness and loneliness, my spirit as dry as the Texas ground.
But our Father in Heaven is a much more compassionate Gardener than I am.
Even in the blistering heat of life, He promises to make us like deep-rooted trees planted by rivers.
…blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord…they will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.”
Read it again. Let the truth of his love soak you to your roots. Dig deep and don’t let a dry sky persuade you that the Gardener has forgotten to give you what you need.
This post is part of a writing challenge called Write 31 Days. To see more posts in the series, click here!
Photo credit: Stephen Wheeler, edits mine