A Plant Still Potted
There is a sense of freedom and adventure that comes with mobility, but there is also an inescapable inhibition. In this way our lives could be compared to a potted plant. It’s free to travel, but its roots are bound and its growth is limited until it has been planted where it’s meant to be. Kate and I have been riding the exhilaration of relocation, but have recently found ourselves longing for the deep, rich soil of everyday life. God has blessed us relationally as we’ve begun to dig in, but logistically, He seems content to leave us potted longer than we’d expected. We’re still shopping an erratic and intricate housing market. We continue acclimating to schools, workplaces and grocery store layouts. We’ve yet to choose our mechanic or pizza shop. Still, there is an exciting possibility that every house might be our home. Every avenue might be our address. If I sound a bit disjointed to you, then I’m communicating well.
Whether potted or planted, our Gardener has been good. He has been intimate and faithful. He has been both patient and prodding. With every touch He gently guides us in His will and, just as importantly, in His time. A friend of mine recently told me that a great decision at a terrible time will be a terrible decision. In our eagerness to escape the clay walls of our pot and stretch our reaching roots into soft, fresh soil, we’re wary of digging in where we don’t belong. These well-worn words of Jesus have aired a fresh breeze across our longing leaves:
This is why I tell you: Don’t worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; or about your body, what you will wear. […] Learn how the wildflowers of the field grow: they don’t don’t labor or spin thread. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was adorned like one of these! […] Your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be provided for you.
— Matthew 6:25, 28-29, 32-33 HCSB
His provision is promised! He sees our needs and invokes His own track record. Could we ask for more?! This passage is an appropriation of priority. It’s an invitation to see and seek through the lens of His kingdom. The pot that we’ve found ourselves in is part of His process and our eyes must be set on His. When we feel that our hopes are hanging, that our roots are restricted, that our fruit is frustrated, that our wishes are wilting, we’re reminded that He is the Lifter of our heads (Ps. 3:3). He’s preparing the ground and will plant us once more. Until then we’re invited to rest… as a potted plant in His gracious hands.
