Good morning. 4:00 a.m. looked amazing, so I woke up to it, again. There is something about the stillness of this time in the morning that is different for me. Day will be breaking soon. Sorrows, doubts, anxieties of yesterday seemingly not as present after an evening prayer, thanksgiving, and a good night’s rest.  I don’t begrudge the fact that I am awake. I’ve been actively working to allow myself to stay awake when my body, mind, and spirit seem to all be in tune.  I would challenge anyone who reads this to consider it a blessing and perhaps listen to the God who wants to speak to you this early—the only one who calls us to gently return and trust His voice instead of our own.

As I often do when I listen to the Holy Spirit, I find myself in front of my blog. As much as I used to love pen and paper, and still do, typing allows me to place my thoughts down as they come a bit more efficiently (if you consider two hours efficient).  I looked around my apartment, and I smiled. My peace lily plant is coming back to life!

Let me tell you the story of these plants…

About seven years ago, when I stepped out in faith to the Lone Star State, and returned later, I worked for this very trendy new grocery store, where I bought these two plants. It was the first time I had truly left home, so naturally, buying these plants made me feel like a “real” adult. I grew up with what I like to fondly remember as a miniature rain-forest under the open staircase of our home. That forest with it’s stone water fountain and plants abounding was where my barbie dolls would take backpacking adventures as my imagination allowed me to play and create as a child. Those times were simpler. I am thankful my childhood didn’t contain “smart” phones, those having not been invented yet, of course.

Anyhow, my two plants…

When I returned to the Midwest in 2012 and then adventured to New England in 2015, my mother cared for my plants in the now growing forest next to the fireplace in the home my parents eventually settled in after a few moves.  This past October, following my sister and mother’s annual visit (now that I am an official New England resident!), I asked for her to return my two plants to me, so that I could assume official ownership responsibilities once again.

One of the plants is a peace lily that I haven’t seen produce a lily in a long time, and the other is something that I believe might be slightly more tropical.  Even after the suggestion of a friend to join a plant group on Facebook and attempt to find out if anyone with more plant knowledge than my own could help me, the verdict was that we still weren’t sure what it is other than a plant.  It is very pretty, nonetheless, and facilitated a lot of fun online conversation back in January.  A few things to note about both plants: 1.) I had never re-planted them up until June of this year (face cringing emoji can go here).  2.) My apartment has only two windows; one in the kitchen, and a larger one in the main living space. 3.) I have taken two extended trips away, and no, I did not get a plant sitter.

Now, thankfully with the help of a my plant-loving friend, upon my return from the first extended trip (three weeks), I was able to locate ceramic planters that would match the color schemes of my apartment as well as purchase the proper planting soil. I got my hands dirty, replanted, and fed my likely starved-but-still-surviving plants.  Within a week, my tropical looking plant had new buds!! Honestly, seeing new life created through the way of a plant made me a lot happier than I ever imagined I could be over a plant—but I really see it as a metaphor to human life.  My peace lily was doing great as well and had lifted all its leaves to the direction of the light in the window.  I completely rearranged my apartment entirely for the benefit of my plants.  A few weeks of a better location and some weekly watering, and both plants were growing new buds, looking great.  I was proud.

And then I left, again.  This time only for a week; however, I turned the AC off in the apartment to save on electric while away.  When I returned home two weeks ago, my tropical-like plant seemed to be taking the humidity in the apartment just fine.  My peace lily? Well, I might have almost cried, because it was all droopy and nearing what I thought could potentially be its end of life.  It was just the saddest looking plant I’d ever seen.  And I had done that to a living thing.  I turned on the AC, opened the windows for the light, and watered, profusely over the next week.  I might have even apologized and started talking to it, because I swear I’ve heard that helps. I just looked at it all droopy and sad every time I came home from work, feeling terrible, and not knowing how much to water it, or if it even liked the new location. I just kept thinking about what a terrible plant mom I was.  Yet, I continued on the course of watering and opening the window daily, hoping for the best.  And when Wednesday of this past week came, I noticed it had finally lifted.  Day by day, I have watched and waited.  And this morning, almost all of the leaves have perked up again.  Not entirely to its beautiful and tall glory before I left at the start of this month, but looking more sure of itself than it was before.  And what a blessing that I can see that change occur.

There may still be no lilies blooming again.  But there is hope.  And a beautiful metaphor to how God grows us back to life when we seek His light and trust in His watering during the waiting. I am reminded of this scripture in Matthew 6 this morning:  Do not worry.

If I may offer any advice to the person reading: look for the ones in your life who will water, grow, and challenge you in faith. They have been placed there for a reason by something greater than you can imagine to lead you not into your own understanding, but back to the one who gives eternal life.