When I finally remembered to buy seeds for wheat grass, I did what I typically do: I went a bit overboard.
How was I supposed to know that a measly pound of seeds would take care of the jungle Benjamin was planning for his LEGO guys, the tall grass scene Colt insisted on planting in the cigar box, my decorations for Easter and much, much more?
I soon ran out of proper pots, so I lined a thrift-store basket with a plastic grocery bag and planted there as well.
And still there were seeds.
I did what any practical person would do and pulled jars out of the recycling bin to serve as see-through planters. I told myself it would be a great learning experience for the two younger boys, a chance to see nature at work, but I found I was drawn to the jars even more than they were.
I checked them almost every time I walked past. It seemed like nothing was happening in the other, prettier pots, but I noticed every new sprout in the jars. When the roots started unfolding I made everyone in the house come look.
Because I could see what was happening beneath the soil, I knew it was just a matter of hours before the first bits of green would break through. It was easy, exciting even, to wait.
It was hard to imagine the same thing happening in the more traditional pots, the places where I had to rely on faith instead of sight. I knew – really knew – that the same process was happening in both places, but I like tangible results in my gardening and in my prayer life. Results I can see and track and check up on. Results that aren’t buried beneath soil or hidden in hearts.
God, that person I’m having a hard time with, you’re going to help me with that right? And my desire to be more positive and to be a better wife? You haven’t forgotten about that?
The green tips of the wheat grass did break through in all the pots, the basket, the jars, the jungle and even the cigar box. They moved shyly at first, barely seen, but as the soil split to make room for the new, I had my evidence. Blade after beautiful blade.
And even in the dark, away from my eyes, seeds of faith were growing.