A flash of green caught my eye. The unwatchful gaze would have swept past without seeing.
But I had waited for this moment.
Through the winter snows, I had poured over resources and writings. The notes were filed, rewritten, and filed again.
The spring thaw brought with it both excitement and increased labor.
Weeks of waiting. But now, there it was.
“Hey, girls!” I pointed them to small pieces of green pushing their way through the stubborn New England soil.
They were confused at my excitement; I realized they could not see the full picture.
“Those are baby carrot leaves,” I explained. “Salad!”
That garden of many years ago held a special place in my heart. Weeding, watering, weeding again, mulching… I loved those cool, quiet morning. These were the enjoyable tasks. Alone with my thoughts…whispered conversations to the Lord…burdens given over.
Disheveled brown heads, peeking out the back door and tousling down the steps like puppies, would bring my wandering thoughts back to earth.
My girls. My small plants. Nurtured. Tended. The little shoots of love, respect, honesty. The flowers that would some day bring forth fruit.
Though that garden is but a memory, the little green seedlings have since grown into capable young ladies. The weeding, watering, and cultivating has not stopped. Rather it has increased. These young plants are susceptible to infestations of pride, anger, and selfishness. Weeding against the root of bitterness requires great vigilance.
It is a monumental task, growing this next generation of wives and mothers. This garden drives me to my knees.
Ah! But that sprout I see! This. The servant’s heart. The concern for souls. The obedience. These are the moments I have been waiting for. Under the care of the Master Gardener, these plants have every opportunity to flourish with fruit to His glory.
Faith Hope Charity 