The Pit and the Possibility
I have a daughter with a deep need in her heart to grow things—and then we move her around every couple years so that an actual garden isn’t really a possibility.
We’re loving parents in that way.
Back in March, she started harassing me to let her sprout an avocado pit. {Child doesn’t even eat avocados; her little sister does.} Sure, I said, expecting nothing to come of it. And she proceeded to clean the pit, attach it to a tripod of toothpicks, place it in a cup of water, and attempt to drown it in my windowsill for the next six weeks.
Where it did absolutely nothing.
Finally, the morning of May 1st, I informed her that I was ready to reclaim my kitchen window sill. I broke the news to her gently so I wouldn’t crush her gardening instincts, but in a home with five kids, three pets, and a mom who gets sensory overload, cleared off spaces are a premium commodity. I did, however, agree to let her take one last look inside the splitting pit just to confirm that it was still doing… absolutely nothing.
And what do you know, but there was a sprout in there! After all that time, that sucker had finally put out a root.
So Bee and I carefully potted and watered it, and now there will be a blue pot apparently full of nothing but dirt sitting on display for the next few months while we watch and pray and wait some more.
Basically, I’ve traded a small glass mason jar of water in my windowsill for a large blue pot of dirt on a dresser. And my chances of seeing plant growth haven’t improved much. And if we do somehow get something growing in there, it won’t even gift us with any avocados for ten more years—and we’ll be stuck moving it around the country with us.
But here’s the thing I felt deep in my gut as I laughingly held that avocado pit up in the light to look at its minuscule sprout: we are so quick to assume that just because growth isn’t happening on our timeline that it’s not happening at all—and we’re wrong.
I struggle with this with my children, with my husband, but especially with myself. I don’t see the growth happening when I want it to happen—and so I want to just throw out the possibility of growth altogether.
I hear myself saying: I’m never going to master my temper. I’m never going to stop leaning into escapism instead of Christ. I’m never going to stop walking in pride and perfectionism. If the Holy Spirit hasn’t fixed this in me now, He’s never going to.
And it’s disheartening, yes, to see myself spiraling back over and over again to the same sin areas. It’s discouraging to see how easily I fall back into the same poor choices. It’s enough to make me want to quit trying.
But that avocado pit didn’t sprout a root because it was trying. It sprouted a root because it was ready. Because it had been watered and exposed to sunlight. Because God, in His mysterious way, decided that it was time.
And He will do the same for us.
Don’t give up. And don’t depend on your own trying.
Growth will come when you are ready. Growth will come after repeated encounters with the One who calls Himself the Living Water and the Light of the World. Growth will come when God, for whom a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years are like a day, decides that it is time.
And trust me, He’s not going to throw out the split and ugly avocado pit of your soul just because you’re taking up space and don’t seem to be grown. No. He’ll flip you over, and He’ll say, “See? There’s a little root shoving its way out there. There’s a sign of life. There’s a sign that I’m working. Don’t give up.”
And then He’ll shove you into the soil where it’s dark and dirty so that you can get the nutrients you need to grow even more. But that’s another story.
For today, let’s just remember: even if we don’t see the growth, it’s happening…in ourselves and in others. Don’t give up. But that doesn’t mean try harder.
