We’re all planted somewhere.
Our personal dreams…
Yes, we’re all planted somewhere, but are we blooming?
Looking back over the last two years when my husband and I planted our lives in this small community, I question our blooming while watering our gardens at sunset.
Gardens grow with love and attention where breathtaking flowers of every bouquet are birthed.
Paintings of wonder are framed in the gardener’s mind at spring, imagining their strokes of color and beauty bursting off the canvas at summer’s end.
I’ve asked myself…
Have our gardens of neighbors grown and flourished from those seeds of love and attention we’ve planted in them?
Are there bouquets of relationship flowers bursting in color up and down the street because we’ve imagined them at spring?
Have we bloomed in contentment from the address we are planted?
With a brand new house next door (like ours) which has been up for sale these past few months, we’ve intentionally greeted those peeking through the windows with a verbal tour of the neighborhood, occasionally hosting a tour of our home when these prospective neighbors wondered what the inside and size looked like with furniture.
David and I have enjoyed promoting our home sweet home community, sowing seeds of kindness to whom God might be sending to live one house over from us.
That neighbor finally moved in a few weeks ago, an older woman living on her own with her only daughter residing in Texas; an opportunity to love on somebody’s mother in her absence.
Do unto others…
As I would have wanted done for my mother in the same situation.
We’ve made a few friends over the last two years, helping the “older than us” when we can.
David went missing for a few hours last summer when I found him fixing another man’s roof; keeping the homeowner safe in his lawn chair after my husband stopped him from wobbling up the ladder.
You wave at passerby’s in the community, rolling our window down every now and then for a few moments of conversation at the mailbox hub.
We’ve introduced ourselves to those congregating outside
during our evening walks around the park.
You never know what kind of day your neighbors are having; who’ve also reciprocated the love when the weather report on our faces reads cloudy skies.
Kindness is always the cherry on top for a smile waiting to happen.
But the question remains…
Have we bloomed in contentment these last two years we’ve planted ourselves at this address?
While we love this charming home God gave us, we desperately long the country life we enjoyed during our early years of marriage.
Every night in the evening, David and I intentionally get lost in back-roads, driving towards the desperate longing that calls our hearts, an excerpt I once wrote about in a former blog…
THE LONG WAY HOME
By Lori A Alicea
The long way home gives you time to reacquaint yourselves with one another, as life changes from day to day as the four seasons do, and one must dress appropriately for the weather escorted in.
“Are we there yet?”
Usually not, when the compass of our travels is a constant turn to the east or west down roads where the scenery isn’t familiar and stirs your curiosity for any hidden log cabins to discover.
Then is the map you follow for those log cabins you long to see for the umpteenth time, stopping at the edge of their driveway and dreaming together over a few sips of our coffee, adding a childlike gift to our Christmas list once again this year.
The best seats in the house can be purchased for the price of a few gallons of gas and uninterrupted moments of time except to enjoy and take in the view of nature’s carefree children chasing each other around the trees and deep into the woods of their private playground.
For our young granddaughter’s delight, I’ve sown a few rocks in my garden for their discovery…
Rocks of peace, laughter, believing, friends and hope…each glittered to catch their attention.
Maybe I’ve sown these rocks of encouragement for this little girl in me unknowingly.
Sometimes we question why and where we’re planted when you’d rather be re-potted elsewhere.
But we are reminded to find contentment in all things…
…for I have learned to be content in whatever situation I am in.
Philippians 4:11 NIV
I’ve also learned these last sixty-one summers, it’s best to trust and be in awe of those…
Paintings of wonder framed with us in the gardener’s mind at spring, imagining those strokes of color and beauty of our lives bursting off the canvas at summer’s end.
God has all things blooming no matter where we’re planted.