For years I’ve tried to kill the annoying little nandina bushes that grow against the front of the brick porch on our old house. Someone planted a bush off to the side many years ago. The original bush is long gone, but for some reason the root system or offspring continues to return year after year despite my cutting it off, poisoning it, etc. You’d think they’d be gone, yet year after year those woody shoots continue to come up between the concrete steps and the brick porch. How any kind of plant ever pushed up through there in the first place is beyond me. But grow it does, a testimony to the tenacity of a stubborn little plant.
I understand now that my life is like that , stuck for years between the proverbial rock and hard place. What I’ve done to that plant in trying to remove and destroy it, is what sometimes happens to me; tugged on from one direction or another; whacked back, enduring poison that would destroy anything else; considered more of a nuisance than a beautiful plant. At least I feel that way. I’d love to be a beautiful blooming rose climbing on a trellis somewhere, or daffodils dancing in the spring sunshine. But I’m not. I’m that stubborn little nandina that insists on springing up in a crack.
I didn’t choose this place. It is where God planted me, and I must do his bidding, not the will of any well-intended landscaper who thinks the Creator made a mistake. I don’t know why. But I do know I can’t quit. If pushing up between rocks is what my God intended, then push I must. Maybe I don’t put out beautiful flowers, but if my Maker desires colored foliage in winter and rust colored berries in fall then that is what I will give him to the best of my ability.
Today is Feb 14, a day when hearts are supposed to be warm with the glow of love. It’s cold outside. And my heart isn’t in tune with the rest of the world. The rocks on either side of me are rough and cold and I’m having the fight off bitterness that seeks to poison my soul. It’s hard and it hurts. These winters of my life are not pleasant. Yet I must embrace them as they are part of my Master’s plan and purpose. He knows best and it is He and He alone whom I grow for.
I understand now that my life is like that , stuck for years between the proverbial rock and hard place. What I’ve done to that plant in trying to remove and destroy it, is what sometimes happens to me; tugged on from one direction or another; whacked back, enduring poison that would destroy anything else; considered more of a nuisance than a beautiful plant. At least I feel that way. I’d love to be a beautiful blooming rose climbing on a trellis somewhere, or daffodils dancing in the spring sunshine. But I’m not. I’m that stubborn little nandina that insists on springing up in a crack.
I didn’t choose this place. It is where God planted me, and I must do his bidding, not the will of any well-intended landscaper who thinks the Creator made a mistake. I don’t know why. But I do know I can’t quit. If pushing up between rocks is what my God intended, then push I must. Maybe I don’t put out beautiful flowers, but if my Maker desires colored foliage in winter and rust colored berries in fall then that is what I will give him to the best of my ability.
Today is Feb 14, a day when hearts are supposed to be warm with the glow of love. It’s cold outside. And my heart isn’t in tune with the rest of the world. The rocks on either side of me are rough and cold and I’m having the fight off bitterness that seeks to poison my soul. It’s hard and it hurts. These winters of my life are not pleasant. Yet I must embrace them as they are part of my Master’s plan and purpose. He knows best and it is He and He alone whom I grow for.
