I have a daughter. Ok, it's a plant. But she has a name, she's my daughter plant and her name is Lyla. I've had her for one year. She's lovely. My husband bought her for me during a season of heavy doubt and hopelessness in my heart. I was battling day by day, sometimes hour by hour for joy and faith. I want quick results. In my heart. And I wasn't getting them.
And then I met Lyla. I figured I'm going to take care of her one day at a time, just like I'm going to battle for hope one day at a time. And wait.
For He who promised is faithful. I can't say it enough.
But then Lyla died.
During our August move, in the heat of Texas, she got left outside a bit too long. And she was gone. Fast. Wilted and brown. Nothing left. But I took her and set her by the window, watered her one time, then kinda forgot about her.
Then in mid-October, I look up from eating. Glance at Lyla and out of the top of her brown dry stem is a fresh green leaf. She was living! And yes, I stood, walked over to my daughter plant and got completely introspective about the whole thing.
I know, it's pathetic. It's really tiring living inside my mind.
This is huge. When I am abiding, God is always working. Let me not look for fruit to prove He's with me. Let me not give up when it seems all the mirror shows me is a brown wilted stem. For then, I've removed faith from our relationship. He is working. It's about Him. Working.
Faith that chooses to believe He is here. He is love. He will never leave me nor forsake me. He is in control. And He is working. I must abide, my root must sink deep and stay firm in His Truth.
Then trust. He is working.
For the Lord God is a sun and a shield; The Lord gives grace and glory; No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly. O Lord of hosts, how blessed is the man who trusts in you.