The Faith of a Flower

There comes a time, when tending a garden, in which you notice seedlings emerge to sprout leaves. I can’t explain why some plants of the same sort grow faster than others. Better soil? More water? Good lighting?

Gardening changes your spiritual life. I have been dragging my feet here; I think I’m past the phase of telling stories based on others’ accounts. It’s like a flower growing. You go from knowing about Saints to knowing Saints–and trying to be one.

I’m spiritually aware enough to know I’m far from that goal.

It’s not about me anymore. This is not a just blog with dramatic tales. I’m grateful that they came easily to me for a time; and perhaps they will come again.

Instead of forcing stories that, for the moment, will not emerge, I can tell the truth. What truth I know better than my own? (And this relatively so. We are always in denial of our own flaws in faith.)

What was the water that caused awareness? Perhaps it was the daily Rosary I took up. It might be the pleasant weather; months of warmth manage to clear the spiritual vision. It might have been allowing God to show me my imperfection.

Plants do not grow well without a gardener to tend to them; left on their own, they become out of control and are not always healthy. Forest fires and poor weather make survival a coin toss. Maybe I am a plant, and God is the gardener, and the Rosary was Him pruning the dead branches.

I can tell my story now. It isn’t as impressive as the canonized Saints, but it’s something I know slightly better.

I hope the weather will also change to bless you!

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