Last summer I purchased an orchid off a sales rack at Harris Teeter. The plant had one bloom left on it, and was cheap. She bloomed, eventually wilted and just sat around taking up countertop space.
I put both of the dormant plants near by back door to take out on my next trash day; but, there was a nagging knot in my stomach...how could I toss away something that still had life in it?
For a lack of a better word, I felt convicted about wanting to throw away plants that still had life in them.
But, alive or not, they had become a chore, something else requiring attention, thought and responsibility. They needed special food and a surprisingly specific watering cycle and required consistent temperatures and filtered light. Instead of enjoying the delicate flowers- I had to focus on them and be mindful of what I was doing for them- without an instantaneous, tangible reward in sight. I wasn't sure if I would ever see another bloom from them. It was settled. I was tossing them.
However, the convicting thoughts hit my heart again. There was still life in the stalk.
How often are we just like that in our personal relationships? We thrive as consumers. We are very keen on participating in all the sparkle, shiny and fun aspects of "spring" without thought, but the second a situation requires commitment or work on our end....we're quick to be back at the nursery picking out fresh pots of new flowers. Looking for instant gratification without the effort or pain of any sacrifice.
It really hurts to think about, honestly, because I've been guilty of it too. Even with people, treating people as though are disposable.
I don't want to be a consumer. I want to be a nurturer of tender things; like, friendship, love and relationships. I want to be a creator of welcoming places where hearts are safe to be vulnerable and honest. I want to be a person willing to adjust my schedule for yours. You need more light, or more fertilizer? Let's figure it out. You need to go dormant and "just be" for awhile....let's work it out.
The whole winter passed with me tending these dormant plants. After several months I noticed nubs forming along one of the green stalks. I couldn't believe it.
Now, blooms weigh down one of the branches and I've had to pin it up! There's about 8 more buds waiting to open. I learned a lot about orchids over the winter. The more I learned, the more invested I was in doing things right for the flowers. I feel so much pride now looking at the hot pink and white flowers, its not just a plant to me anymore...it's a lesson and a reward for commitment.
I can't help but view my relationship with others differently after this winter lesson in consistency and commitment. I hope that in the end we all learn to be more than consumers, but creators of beauty and nurturers of life. <3
Shine.
Cass
