Opening door to the front porch. I see it. Sitting there. Dry, brittle, shriveled up as a result of the circle in the sky, beating down on it.
Those baskets I love. The ones I invested in at the beginning of summer. Now abandoned half way through. I run to fill up the little red can with a spout. Slowly pouring water in, drowning it, until life flows from all sides.
Hours later, I notice it’s already coming to life. Flowers standing, leaves reaching, plant rising, flowing over the edges of what it’s held by.
And I think about our faith, how it can be easy to let it sit, until there is a deficit of living water. Until our faith is dry, cracking around the edges. Dead flowers falling helplessly to the ground.
However as strangers pass, they are not drawn to lifeless limbs, shriveled up existence. Instead, they are repelled by what they see. Where is the aroma of Christ that compels people to His beauty?
I go outside again. Some flowers wilting. Sun beat hot, those dead flowers need picking. But, I rush by them in hopes that someone else will see them. Hoping they will fall off freely, without me doing anything. That somehow all will be well, and my flowers will just keep on growing….without me doing anything.
I am busy.
But I pass by again. And again. Nothing changes. Even less flowers grow and even more fade away helplessly. Dead pedals continually taking energy from the basket in the sky once colorfully beautiful.
And I know I must stop if I want what is potted to grow, bloom, reach it’s full potential. Living continually with simply increasing beauty. I must pluck intentionally what is dead away.
Days later….I must pluck again. Keep on plucking. For flowers can fade quickly in a world of sun scorching.And isn’t our faith just like that too? That as we reach up with our limbs to the heavens, in beauty…we must pluck anything hanging useless from who we are. We must daily take away what’s not been giving life, what’s been dangling useless in the face of faith?
Still, if we were to pluck and not water, all would be dead, there would be no life. Or if we were to water without plucking, we might have green, but would fail to have flowers….decreasing out potential to draw others to what God is doing.
- I pick up the Word…my water.
- I bow my head…plucking away the dead life….in repentance.
Watering and plucking continually. Until I am growing, faith rising, like the baskets held high on my front porch.
Knowing well fully that flowers don’t just grow…
If we fail to give them care.
5 Comments
Oh, yes, these are good analogies to our faith…it’s so easy to neglect our need for Living Water.
Thanks for the lovely images and thoughts and for the reminder to stay “watered.”
Beautiful! Lovely metaphor which makes it easy to remember this truth! Patsy
Dear Jen
Isn’t it great how our Pappa teaches us these great wisdoms through ordinary everyday things we understand and relate too! I had to do a lot of plucking and getting rid of thise dead leaves myself the last few days, but now I can just feel new life blossoming in my heart!
Blessings XX
Mia
Hi Jen! I am coming over from Hear It On Sunday.
I had mass death of flowers while I was on vacation, I felt so sad! But it made me think about our faith too, so I really loved your post today.
Always good to see you!
Ceil
Gail – Yes, it’s so hard when our soil runs dry. Why wait? Water now! 🙂
Patsy – Glad you found this memorable! Thanks for reading!
Mia – Oh how I too still have so much picking, friend! Just when I think I am done…God shows me more and even more of my life that I haven’t given over to Him!
Ceil – Sooo sorry about your flowers. I have done that before too & it can be hard to come back to.