Kisses from Katie shared a story from her garden today. A story about the long wait for the sunflower blossom. The watering, the fertilizing. The pulling out of weeds that threaten to choke out it’s potential. The joy of the blooming season, and the promise and anticipation of seasons to come. It hit home for me in our journey through autism. She writes,
Sometimes we look out at our lives and it seems the garden is empty – plans dead as withered leaves, dreams laid waste. Could we rejoice in the season of waiting, believing that God who brought Jesus out of the black tomb and brings green shoots out of hard earth will bring new life out of all dark seasons too? Could we know that beauty is in this whole process, the waiting part too, not just the end result?
I don’t often see the beauty in the waiting. But it is there. It is there for me and it is there for Dylan. It is there for my husband and my other children. We walk this path, often only in anticipation of the ending. Waiting for the day he can function age appropriately. Hoping for independence and recovery. Working, struggling, doubting, praying. Busying ourselves with the task at hand and forgetting to look around at the now and see the beauty.
Watering. Fertilizing. Pulling the weeds as they threaten to choke out his potential. Trusting that the Father’s light will shine on him and, in time, create a magnificent bloom. It’s work. Hard, frustrating, overwhelming work. But it’s beautiful too. How often I forget to look around and remember where I am. To see the beauty in the present day.
As I gaze in wonder, I remember how He brought us out of the dark and the hard. I remember how He protected us from the pounding rain and the scorching sun, baby green shoots clinging to Him for dear life. I remember that as we reached high to the Son, He came down and pulled us closer. We turn out heads up in awe and we know what is around the corner, but we look expectantly to the bowing and the bending and the death of all we had planned because we know – in Him, there will always be more. Glorious hope. Katie Davis
Too much of my life has been spent in pursuit of. And too little of it spent soaking in the now. If you (like me) are in a place in your life where you’re struggling with the waiting, won’t you join me as I pray for my eyes to be open to the beauty of the moment?