I feel scattered, tossed upon fertile soil. The master gardener tells me I have been purposely positioned in this specific spot. Yet I feel out of place in this cool, moist soil. I question if anything can grow here as snow flurries cover me with a chilling wind.
I pray to God for strength, seeking his light and warmth, but the long night endures. “How dear God can all my effort here possibly bear fruit? Nothing will even germinate here?” In due season he tells me.
Faithfully I continue to pray, trusting the hand of the master gardener. He lovingly encourages me to wait. He tells me one day in the warmth of spring his purpose will be revealed, blossoming for all to see. Patiently I wait, praying to God for strength to see it through.
“That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither — whatever they do prospers.” – Psalm 1:3
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