Nurturing Something New

     Over the years, I have developed a reputation with my husband as a careless caretaker of plants. He claimed he could tell my mental state by the state of my houseplants. It was true that I stopped watering when my mind got too cluttered. As the plants dropped their parched heads my own spirit thirsted for refreshment.

     When I brought home the Habiscus bush and placed it in the bathroom, he merely raised his brow. True, it is a tropical plant but the bathroom has a tropical climate. Right? My plant came with blossoms ready to open. Within a week they dried up and fell off.  I was disappointed. I watered, fertilized, and waited. Their growing season goes through October.

     New buds finally appeared, five to be exact. I was thrilled. I noted how they reached for the light.
And this morning, this sunshiny morning, one opened.

    I live in a mortal condition that is not perfect for my development. I yearn for the light. I am grateful for nourishment and refreshment from a divine source. And I struggle to reach my potential. My gardener is perfect. He never forgets to water, only sometime I forget to drink.