Patience [source]
[pay-shehns]
- quiet, steady perseverance; even-tempered care; diligence
- bearing provocation, annoyance, misfortune, or pain, without complaint, loss of temper, irritation, or the like
- an ability or willingness to suppress restlessness when confronted with delay
"You tilled the soil of my life so patiently
Grace to grace you held my hand faithfully
Transformed my worries into peace
Springing from the ground you helped me see that
I am blooming."
(Shaida Escoffery, 'Blooming')
There is something about plants these days that is teaching me a lot about my relationship with God. With each artist I've featured so far, there's been some theme that's come out of our conversations related to God's creation: it's intricacies, it's depth, it's need for care and cultivation by a patient gardener willing to endure the elements, or even the failures, and especially the waiting.
Oh Lord, the waiting. I know all of us have been there at some point...waiting for that next big thing around the corner. Maybe for you it's a diploma. Maybe it's a husband. Maybe you're waiting for your first child. Maybe the road to whatever you've been waiting for has been a bumpy one...or maybe worse yet, an extremely uneventful, slow one. Maybe you've even pulled over to the side of the road to ask yourself, is this even where I want to go?
Elisabeth Elliot once said, "Don't dig up in doubt what you planted in faith." A saying I'm sure many of you have heard before. The truth is, we never really know what's around the corner, or the fruit that will come from a seed planted in faith. To know that for certain, you'd have to be the gardener...and scripture tells us we are not the gardener, not even the vine itself, but the branches of the vine (John 15:1-17).
Yet sometimes, us little branches start to think we can dig ourselves up, or water ourselves, or force ourselves to bear some other kind of fruit at the expense of whatever it was we were designed to produce. We think we are in control. Imagine you're a gardener, and you planted a flower, and one day you saw that flower trying to wriggle itself free, or make itself look like some other kind of flower. Not only would be confused and amused, you'd probably also be kind of sad. You planted that flower with a purpose and vision in mind...you might long for her trust in your care and cultivating.
So it is with our loving Father in heaven, who has grafted us into the body of Christ (Romans 11:11-24), a source of sustenance and stability we could never create for ourselves or find anywhere else. And He plants us with a purpose, a glorious design meant for our good and His glory, if we would only surrender to the process. And the process might be slow. Sometimes, we are called to wait.
But it's in the waiting He can do some of His best work. When you feel like a planted seed - in a dark place, feeling dry and uncertain, longing to finally break through the soil - know that He is still the Living Water, flowing through you and nourishing you in the quietness of waiting. And when you do break through the soil, abiding in Christ as the vine and dependant on the Father as He prunes and waters you with the Holy Spirit, you will keep on growing with strong, healthy roots and fruitful blooms.
Trust the process.
For God's glory,
Kayla
Artist Highlight: Shaida Escoffery Whitley
- Website/blog: shaidaescoffery.com
- Instagram: @shaiescoffery
- Twitter: @shaiescoffery
- Facebook: Shaida Escoffery
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