When I first came to Hope and started exploring the grounds, one of the first places I found was the Memorial Garden. Hidden near the water and behind a whole Florida forest of shrub, pine and palm, the Memorial Garden looked more like a Secret Garden, lost and forlorn.
During one Church workday, I took a bucket of soapy water and a brush and scrubbed the white picket fence that surrounded the garden.
But my skill set was limited to a quick wash.
There was nothing I could do for the hibiscus behind the garden, one lone hibiscus, planted in memory of the previous pastor's wife. It had no flower. It looked only like a stick a child had found and hoped, if planted, might someday grow.
When I go to the church each morning, it seems even when I have a plan, God leads me somewhere else, that even when I think I've found the right picture for today, (like the bumblebee shot I got today), that God leads me somewhere else just when I've turned to head back to the car.
The same happened today. I wandered down to the Memorial Garden with the hope of maybe, maybe catching a bird at the water.
Instead I found something quite remarkable.
That lone hibiscus, that thing that I thought incapable of being saved, had flowered.
Perhaps it had been flowering all this time and I had just missed it.
Or perhaps, it just needed time and patience.
Time to grow.
Time.
During one Church workday, I took a bucket of soapy water and a brush and scrubbed the white picket fence that surrounded the garden.
But my skill set was limited to a quick wash.
There was nothing I could do for the hibiscus behind the garden, one lone hibiscus, planted in memory of the previous pastor's wife. It had no flower. It looked only like a stick a child had found and hoped, if planted, might someday grow.
When I go to the church each morning, it seems even when I have a plan, God leads me somewhere else, that even when I think I've found the right picture for today, (like the bumblebee shot I got today), that God leads me somewhere else just when I've turned to head back to the car.
The same happened today. I wandered down to the Memorial Garden with the hope of maybe, maybe catching a bird at the water.
Instead I found something quite remarkable.
That lone hibiscus, that thing that I thought incapable of being saved, had flowered.
Perhaps it had been flowering all this time and I had just missed it.
Or perhaps, it just needed time and patience.
Time to grow.
Time.
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