A Curious Plant

I have several spider plants. Most, if not all of them came originally from my mother-in-law's 70th birthday party. Little pots of spider plants and red maples were set around the room as party favors by Dave, her son-in-law. For whatever reasons, the little maples I brought home died. But all of the spiders took off and grew and were transplanted into slightly larger pots and given away, while I kept a few babies to start over with again. One hangs near the front door with a promising batch of little spiders hanging from strong stems in the morning sunshine. Most people coming in don't even notice it, but it salutes those leaving with a wave and a wish for good life. I also have one of those plants (no idea what it's really called) that looks like huge shamrocks. I bought it for St. Patrick's Day and it sits on the window sill turning all the little faces toward the east each morning and filling up the window full of dirt (my seedlings) with blooms of green. Another house plant sits atop the bookshelf that divides the living room space from my little craft area. It's a philademdrum. I call him Dr. Phil because he's just the right kind of green medicine I need when the day is gray and I'm blue. I take him down and pull and fuss with the leaves, tangling and untangling the strands, and cleaning the dust from him. I always feel better after spending a few minutes with the good doctor. I got him from my mom a few years ago and he's lasted longer than most plants for I'm not really a green thumbed person. I just pretend pretty well. And then there's the curious house plant. She is one long vine and has long thick leaves. Not like the leaves of a succulent, but heavy and sturdy. She stays heavy at one end and grows a long stem that causes her to droop and eventually to break off. The leaves get longer and thicker as she matures and the plant produces a pretty little flower at the end, but the flower is short lived and really not the point. It's the plant itself that is the thing to enjoy. The stem stays the same thickness even as it lengthens and the leaves grow both longer and thicker. Eventually the stem cannot support the leaves any longer. She only breaks off once every year or two, and every time it happens I expect that the plant in the pot is dead (it looks dead). I put the flowering end, the leaves, into a jar with a rooting solution, and let the rest sit in its old pot and rest for a few days. It takes me by surprise every time it happens, but it happens every time. After a few days, usually about a week, I will be watering the plants around the old pot and notice tiny fresh leaves on the old stem. It's an amazing sight to see this old stem producing new life, fresh leaves and the old leaves producing new roots in the other jar. My great-aunt, Aunt Reggie (Regina) gave me the plant a few years before she passed away. She truely had a green thumb and could raise anything. The plant reminds me of her, strong and resourceful. It provides me more than just a memory though. It is a picture of my Savior's hand and the plan that God promised He has for me in the book of Isaiah. I have an annoying habit of taking on more and more responsibility until I cannot carry it anymore and something snaps and I lose it all, or something breaks off, falls off, or dies. Lately I have begun to feel that weight, the long thin stem holding and sustaining the heavy thick maturing leaves. A part time job in my husband's business; writing the blog; working toward my degree; writing two books - one about our adoption journey and one based on a biblical character; a new business adventure for me that will hopefully add to our income as well as provide me with an outlet for my creative bug; traveling twice a month to our son's school in VA; a small church related responsibility; all of the regular chores of life such as laundry, making appts., cleaning, paying bills, getting groceries, the normal things everyone does; and bible study, reading, prep for group, and prayer; and oh, yeah, rest. These are a part of what I have hanging from my life plant presently. Some days it is just too much. Now please don't read me wrong. I am not whining. Just stating the facts. Most of the time, I'm having a blast in the midst of all of this. But it really is over-load and I know it. I have taken on each of these responsibilities with prayer and I've tried to have discernment along the way. The plant is beginning to feel heavy with the leaves of the responsibilities as the stem of life grows longer and each leaf, thicker. I realize though, that at one time I would have been looking for the fruit or the flower, I know that right now it's not about that. The "flowers" these areas produce will not in all likelyhood, not be award-winning, stunning in beauty, or productive in nourishment like the flower of the apple tree or berry plants. No, the flowers may be seen by a few, but the plant and its growth is the point. The producing happens in the letting go, separating, starting over. As the old breaks away and responsibilities are completed they won't die off necessarily. Some of the leaves will fall away, but the majority will take new roots elsewhere. I suppose that at some point I will not work part time at the store any longer, someone else will do my job. My blog will end and you will read someone's else's glimpses and glimmers. My degree will be earned (oh, I so hope!) and I will either find where to use it or move into the master's program (doesn't that, in the light of knowing the Master, sound enticing?). The books will be written by God's grace and I will move on to others or not. The new business will grow and provide what I am hoping for or it won't. Our son will graduate and move on to college and we won't take a drive into the heart of VA twice a month any more. The church responsibilities will be passed on to someone new (someone with more administrative skills than I have I hope for their sake.) Each of these will offer a flower, a moment to enjoy them and what they have produced in my life. Their flower isn't the point though. The other responsiblities are just part of the core of the plant where the stem flows from, the piece that continues on even when the rest dies away. That's where the new leaves begin to sprout, out of that life. But in truth, they spring from the roots in the soil. The reading of the Word, the study and preparations of that study, and the time spent in prayer and at His feet are the roots. Yes, those things are the strength of the core plant and are steady no matter how the leaves weigh the stem down. My son gave me a calendar at Christmas that is titled "For Women Who Do Too Much". Hmm. Wonder how he figured that one out? Yesterday someone sent me a devotional that was dealing with over-commitment. I know I am once again in that place and I have a few clues of what I need to let go of. Nothing is really finished and so I believe I need to finish a few things. Perhaps it's this blog. Perhaps it's a few other things. Whatever happens I know that He will produce new life, new leaves in this old stem. The curious thing is that each time the plant has lost it's leaves it starts with one new set. This time there are two. That's never happened before. I'm wondering if it isn't a bit prophetic, and hoping that it is. How about you? Dropped any leaves lately? Any new growth? Are your roots strong? Oh! The soil where the plant lives, abides and receives all that's necessary to sustain life - it's Him. But you knew that.