You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit… John 15:16 (NIV)
Several weeks ago I planted bulbs, anticipating that before long I would have stunning color to punctuate the beds surrounding my courtyard. I’ve watered the places where I imagine bulbs mysteriously coming to life with foliage preparing to peep above the soil. I watch frequently for signs that my labor has not been in vain.
The directions that came with the box of bulbs said that I could expect to see the unfurling of pink and rose tones, varying shades of red with white, and some soft greens within six to eight weeks. But I want to see my caladiums come to life now. I do not want to wait three or four more weeks.
Seeds of faith and hope were planted in me at varying times in my life. I have read and have been told that those seeds must be watered and given proper nutrients before they will spring up and bear fruit. I am tempted from time to time to poke around in the soil of my heart to see what is happening there. I am impatient for mature, delicious fruit that will nourish those in need. I do not always appreciate the time needed for the maturing process.
But it’s necessary. God is the gardener, the husbandman of the scripture. He brings the circumstantial rain or sunshine or whatever he deems necessary to produce the precise fruit he wants in our lives. Our task is to be still and allow him to do what he wills, when he wills, and however he wills. Our gardens will grow as we wait and he works.
Father, you are God, and I am not. I surrender to you to work your glory in me. Amen.