I'm Proud of You

It's far from the truth to say I've got a green thumb. I rarely buy plants myself, but we often receive them as gifts. If gift givers knew their thoughtful gesture was facing an untimely death, I think they might opt for a bottle of wine instead. 

Each time I accept the plant with a hesitant smile and think to myself, “Oh! I’ve really got to try with this one.” The first week on my kitchen counter it gets all the love of a new relationship and I end up overwatering it. I realize it probably needs some sun too, so I put it by a window but next week it is as dry as a bone. At this point I give it some water and a little pep talk. "Alright buddy, you've got to be a hearty plant if you are going to make it here. Toughen up and I’ll try to remember to water you.” Eventually the plant ends up on the front porch to fend for itself and then dies when I forget to bring it inside during a freeze. 

So, when my mom gave me a potted gardenia bush for our anniversary to spruce up our back porch my rhythm was thrown off. It didn’t even get the chance to know me in the honeymoon phase, and true to form I forgot all about it unless I noticed it looked droopy. Poor thing probably watched it rain inches away, just out of reach on the screened porch, dying for a drop.

At last, all the leaves fell off and it was totally bare. I had a stick in a pot on my back porch and wondered why I hadn’t just planted it in the yard sooner. I couldn’t decide where it should go but now it seemed too late. Ever the optimist I figured I’d give it a shot and I planted my stick on the other side of the screen with a laugh and gave it my best wishes. 

And guess what?

It got what it needed. God watered it for me and the sun shone down on my little stick plant. It had room for the roots to stretch out. One day I went out and noticed something green. It wasn’t growing from the dead stick part but deep inside there was still some life in the roots and it had started growing from the ground up. I stood amazed as I saw these two little shoots of green popping out.

That’s when it hit me.

This plant is like my marriage.

When we bought our first house it had six-foot-tall gardenia bushes all along one side. They bloomed like crazy every year because they were so well established (and were not counting on me, obviously). When my husband was young, his house also had gardenias and his dad would bring some in and put them in bowls of water. In our new home, my love was excited to carry on the tradition. Every June he clipped dozens of deliciously fragrant blooms and each room of the house had its own bowl of beauty. I had earned a reputation of not appreciating flowers early in our marriage when I rebuffed my husband for buying me roses. He thought he was going to get husband of the year award (what girl doesn’t like flowers!?) but I was miffed at the price tag. A splurge of $30 for roses meant cutting somewhere else, like our dining out budget and I'd honestly rather have take out than a bouquet. He said he'd never buy me flowers again but now each year we had hundreds of free flowers right outside our door. Every few days he collected a fresh batch and satisfied his practical wife. It was perfect.

When we moved to our new home, we were sad to leave our gardenias behind and kept saying over and over we needed to plant a new bush here. For one reason or another we never did until I planted a dead looking stick, and it came back to life.

Our marriage, oh my goodness. How good you are to me Lord! I looked at those two new growths on the still dead stick and saw in an instant a picture of our marriage. It too had looked dead but had come back to life when it was given the time and attention it needed. We coasted for a long time, ignoring the basics of honest communication that is water needed for a thriving marriage. Counseling helped us see each other with fresh eyes and forgive the wounds of neglect. We put in a lot of work because we realized if we were not intentional, we would drift apart. We continue to do the hard work of loving each other and yet it is the Lord who is working in us to His good pleasure. I sat and thanked God for the work He had done and for the little metaphor he gave me in our backyard. I went ahead and cut off the dead stick parts because I knew growth would not come from there anymore, it was coming from the roots.

Fast forward a year and my little stick bush was now taller than my son. I stepped outside to marvel at how much it had grown in a year. I stood there looking at it and simply delighted that despite my lack of gardening skills this plant was thriving! I figured I might as well let it know that I was happy it had learned to be hearty, so I stood there and said aloud, “I’m proud of you!”

and then I heard God say the same thing back to me.

Tears filled my eyes as I heard him whisper to my heart his pleasure for how we had grown, even after looking dead we were alive again. We trusted Him, forgave each other, and found beauty in the brokenness, and he was delighted to see it. It was all his work in us anyway, but he still delighted to see it.

If I could find joy and thankfulness in a little plant that managed to come back from death, how much more did my heavenly father rejoice that two sinners had recognized their deadness, repented, and recommitted to their marriage covenant? 

Zephaniah 3:17 

He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing. Oh, the Lord your God is with you.