Just before the rain yesterday I walked out onto the deck and noticed some gangly green "weeds" growing up and out of an old clay flowerpot. It came to me as I got closer to them, stopping short of removing these "intruders" from my petunias, just what they were, and how they came to be there. Okra! Here were my tiny little okra seeds, proudly bursting through the dirt, reaching for the sun, and shaming me, for doubting them. I had found this seed packet weeks ago; far more fond of the memory of it than the okra itself; a "project" Ryan had wanted to try some years ago, when the season was right. Long forgotten. And so I planted them; unsure, still, of the right planting time (my grandfather, Pappy, probably chuckling at this from his spot in Glory!); and popped them into the pot; thinking my now teenager would at least find it interesting, should they, indeed, survive. But after a few loving pats of my hand, and a little rain from my watering can, I forgot them entirely, certain these tiny specks could never bear fruit: certain they would never grow after all this time, and all this heat.
He speaks volumes through these funny little plants; miracles, they are. The Master gardener; loving us as we are; seeing us for what we will become...even now, after all this time, hidden. We forget, but are not forgotten; growing, bearing fruit; basking with joy in His nourishing sun, we will dance in the rain; knowing it is for our good...pushing higher, raising our hands; we reach to the heavens and the Glory of His face...
"For we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." ~ Ephesians 2:10