Planting flowers

This is a little cartoon that came up on my Facebook feed around the new year, and I saved it, as a reminder to plant flowers. 2017 started off with everyone feeling a bit glum; Trump about to start his presidency, the spate of celebrity deaths that 2016 had brought, Brexit looming. Blogger housemate, who is a staunch monarchist, breathed a sigh of relief that 2016 had not taken our queen from us; but the unwelcome flip side is that there is a sorrow still to come.

It's easy to feel discouraged when all the signs point to things getting worse. I believe that the correct response to this is to trust God, because He holds all things and He is good; but I still have to decide what to do with my time, while everything around me looks gloomy.

One response is to curl up and wait for spring, wait for things to get better. I do a lot of this. I think it's fair; life comes in seasons, and trying to make yourself be as productive and efficient in the down times just isn't going to work. In deepest winter, in their little seed pods under the ground, the seeds are curled up shrivelled and cold, and when the warmth touches them they will awaken. The hibernating animals are asleep too, fat bellies slimming as hunger eats through their very flesh. The time will come when they, too, will feel the breath of warm springtime, and they will stretch and yawn and come out into a world creaking at the seams with good, wholesome food to replenish them. There is a degree of satisfaction in the filling that is greater because of the greater emptiness that preceded it, and the times when the emptiness has won are the very times which make it a miracle when life returns. The seasons of life are a little bit less predictable than the seasons of the year, and I guess there are some people for whom spring does not come, which is sad, and not something I find myself able to accept.

If you've read pretty much anything else on this blog, you will know that the current season of my life is pretty hard to live through. My devotions the other day were about waiting for change, and there was a question to ponder: What does it mean to wait well?

Some days curling up and waiting for better is the only option; but some of the time, I have choices. One of the choices I have made is to trust God with the things that are hard (which is much easier said than done); another choice, which the little cartoon at the top helps me to believe in, is to invest myself in the things that I can do, here and now.

I colour. On my worst days, this is where I turn, because it keeps my hands busy and gives me something to focus on when my mind is too tired to keep itself in line. Surprisingly, this has yielded fruit already, beyond its therapeutic purpose; when I do 'real' art, I find my confidence has improved, and I 'just know' where to go next. ('Scuse inverted commas.)

I clean, cook, do laundry. The bad times are much easier to bear when you have clean underwear, and much easier to pull yourself out of when you have proper food to eat. These little things can seem so hard sometimes, but I'm learning that when they are achievable, they are really worth the trouble.

I do my job well. I work half time. It feels like I'm achieving less than my peers in full-time work. At the same time it's a blessing and an opportunity. On bad weeks, I can still pull myself together to for long enough to coax myself through a half day's work; on good weeks, I can squeeze everything I can out of my short working hours, practise efficiency and quality in a way that I might not be able to maintain on a fuller schedule.

I practise piano. I had some lessons when I was younger, not enough to make me good at it but enough that I can improve on my own. I would never have had the discipline to sit and practice in the past, but it's something I can do without going out of my comfort zones, and when many other doors are closed, actually learning to play well seems like a door that's opened.

I focus on my studies. I do a part-time theology course. At first I was a bit stingy with my time; you're meant to be able to do all the work in one evening per week. Now, I put a lot more into it. I have time to fill and I have an opportunity to study that's unlikely to come round again. When things get tough, I find that a) I've already done enough work to be able to cobble together something half-decent without much effort and not have to worry about deadlines and b) I'm more grounded in my faith and better able to deal with difficult things.

I exercise. Enjoy being outside. Learn to be strong. Learn to keep going, keep running when I'm breathless and exhausted. Make the most of being young and physically able. Invest in a healthy body for the future.

I pray. For several months this was out of my reach, too hard and too scary. Now I can do it again, I relish the chance. It's so good, so very good. A direct invitation to the throne of Heaven - a treasure not to be taken lightly!

I plant flowers, as per the cartoon. Also vegetables, and really anything that isn't a weed. I'm not a great gardener, and my garden has the worst soil imaginable, so there's not much hope of turning into my own little eden; but I can make it a more beautiful place than it otherwise would have been, and maybe make it a nicer place for my housemates too, and that is time well spent.


Sometimes I look at my life and I think, I am achieving so little. Other times I see that these are all the things busy people long to have the time for. I used to spend all my energy trying to figure out what was worth my time (and I'm not sure any of these things featured on that list!); now I have much less ability, and with that comes the freedom to do the 'indulgent' things; to relish the things in life that are always there.

I wait, and I trust God, and I hope for health, for the power to go out and do great things, for better times to come. In the mean time I plant flowers; and I know that if tomorrow isn't better, or next week, or next year, the 'big' things are not resolved, still: there will be food to eat, friends to share pain with, colourful paintings on my walls, music running through my fingers. Flowers planted today will grow tomorrow, and tomorrow will be less dark than today.


(maybe still not that good at taking myself seriously. I really cringe at how cheesy this post is, for all it's true...)