As the morning breeze cools the room through the window, I hear the dripping patter from the garden’s host of sunflowers receiving their morning watering. Atop their towering stalks, large buds prepare to share the fruits of the spring’s careful planting and watering. Just a few weeks ago we were thrilled with excitement as sunflowers began to sprout up from the ground, and then grew to take their place high above the rest.
The baby is crawling. She sees Mom when she’s grumpy, and goes to her. She sees Dad when he’s got something she wants, and goes to him. It has begun. Nothing is safe now from this taste testing, teething little mover. Her favourites: diaper wipes, chair legs, wires, and carpet. I remember having three this size and age, and needing to section off the house to protect my stuff and my cats. I can remember six little hands, and three little sets of eyes peeking over the top of the crib in the morning. I recall their climbing on each other to escape, and exploring the exciting adventures of removing each other’s diapers when they were supposed to be napping. Now they stand before me, making fun of me, and asking me with their big begging eyes for my food. They have read more books than me, and probably would have gotten a better grade than I in college level public speaking. My how they’ve grown.
Just two weeks ago we were shocked when this little Lily moved for the first time. Her growth since then has been troubling. She’s learned to call me “Da” when I come in the room, dance laying down when I come home in the middle of the night, and that vents taste better when the A/C is on. She now knows that if she looks cute enough and whines enough with that pathetic plea, one of her five big sister slaves will come along and give her some attention and probably pick her up. She wants to stand, but she can barely sit. She strives to get everything her curiosity desires. She is the flower in the midst of the season, a reminder of the fruits of the effort. As she grows, like others in the past, she reminds us to be thankful, to take time, and that the blessings of God are often beyond words to explain.
Autumn will come. The harvest of the fruits of our summer’s labour will be reaped. Our time and effort, our voices and our hearts invested and then, hope full filled. It won’t be long before five teenage girls clutter my house with their friends and belongings. Bats and balls, bikes and books will be traded for phones and car keys, curfews and late night chats. It’s hard to look at these young men and women without picturing what they may be like as they grow into their matured state. I’m thankful for the advice of wise men that reminded me to take time to enjoy the blessing of children, and not be too busy to be Dad.
God wants us to grow. We start our walk with Him as small, and innocent babe-like believers. Slowly as we allow Him His place, and trust what He teaches us, we grow and grow to mature and bloom. His investment, His protection, His patience, and His daily blessings are brought to fruition in the miracle we can become. What seemed like just a stalk of brush grows to a tree of life, flowering beautiful blooms and yielding His fruit, in His season.
Don’t miss the blessings of growth. Grow, and let grow. Enjoy the growth of the miracles around you, placed in your life by the goodness of God, as those you invest in grow and bloom. And grow. Grow to know the power and the Blesser that made you, planted you, and carefully enjoys your maturing into something that honours Him, and delights His heart.
“Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.” – Ps 1:1-3