(This post is for a friend. What you do, matters.)
All I was doing was the laundry. It was a normal day. Got up. Made bed. Popped in a load. But, on this normal morning, I glanced over my left shoulder and I saw the most beautiful, most hopeful thing that I had in a while. . .
This is what I love about flowers. They will grow. It doesn’t matter if they’re in a plastic bag or in a compost pile, they will grow and even death itself turns out to be the very ingredient that they need to spring to life.
That bag, with that tiny green arm flailing around shocked me to my center. I had forgotten that last fall, I had planted an entire section of those sweet souls in my backyard. If this is what those pods were doing in the downstairs basement, I wanted to see how they were doing outside.
We still have bits of fencing laying wayward in various parts of the yard and one particularly large section was leaned against where I had planted my seeds. Moving that, I almost cried:
I had forgotten what I’d done. The foundation I had laid, the good that I had planted. But, the seeds hadn’t. They were doing what they were supposed to. Their growth was not dependent on my occasional blip of a memory. I had done my part and they were doing theirs.
Too often, I feel like that for things to happen, I must force them to happen. Everything is on my shoulders. No one is going to help me. No one is going to come through for me. It’s up to me to make things happens. But, this creates a sense of desperation and springs from a fear of abandonment. This, also, prevents me from trusting, relaxing in the Way and the Order that was set in motion from the beginning. There are so many things that don’t depend on me and for that I can be very grateful.
But . . .
There is good that I do that does it’s own work. I can’t force it’s growth. I can’t make things happen faster. I can only plant the good and wait for the bloom. And, blooming is not a guarantee. The Sower himself showed us that. He is crazy wasteful in his gardening, but He does it anyway. The seeds fall everywhere and He waits to see what happens.
To my friends who are planting: Who are looking for jobs, loving others, loving children, loving spouses, loving homes, loving communities, loving countries. Who are reaching out, reaching in, reaching down, and reaching up. To all of those that are entirely too wasteful in their sowing. . .
Keep planting. Keep spreading the good. You will (and probably do) forget all the good that you are doing but don’t discount it and don’t stress over it. Keep sowing the seeds that matter, that make this world better, one tiny corner at a time.
What you do matters, and matters in ways that some day will take your breath away.