Thank you for joining us!
Before we begin our devotional, I wanted to share a Comment Highlight from last week:
On last week’s discussion about our doubts,
wrote:You know, I've always been afraid of doubt. I thought that if I allowed doubt into my heart, then I would lose my faith. I guess that's a feeling I'm still trying to...what? Shake? Analyze? Well, I guess it's one I haven't totally given up. But, what I have grown into a little more is the idea that doubt isn't something I should fear, and it also isn't something I necessarily have to completely embrace, either. It's a bit like the spider on my wall. Maybe this is silly, but I've worked hard over the last few years to befriend spiders and not be completely creeped out by them. Before, I'd see them and squish them or vacuum them, all while dancing the heebie jeebies. Now, I keep my eye on them (I don't like them ON me!), but I say hello and watch and appreciate the work they do. So, maybe I won't snuggle up close with my doubts, but perhaps I'll say hello and keep an eye on them, to see what they have to teach me.
I love this word picture, Hannah! Thank you for pointing out that sitting with our discomfort and doubt doesn’t have to be scary. Hannah writes a newsletter here on Substack called Swallowtales where she shares thoughts, stories, and musings. Check it out!
If you want a chance to be featured in next week’s Comment Highlight, all you have to do is post a comment on any of this week’s posts or threads. That’s it!
Now, on with this week’s devotional…
one morning, everything is as it was; the next, a tiny green flame flickers at the heart of the potted soil and my breath catches to think that this being who cannot speak expressed its satisfaction its health its comfort by creating something new.
Before owning houseplants myself, I didn’t understand why folks get so excited when their plants form new leaves.
With my garden plants, leaves multiply fast. My real excitement is for buds, flowers, fruit. If I got excited about every new leaf in my garden, I would never get anything done.
But I get it, now. Houseplants are a completely different thing. They grow relatively slowly, and their needs are fairly precise. A new leaf doesn’t show up every day. And when it does, it’s a celebration.
Because a new leaf means that the plant is content enough, healthy enough, and trusting of its environment enough to multiply and expand. It reflects well on the person who tends the plants; clearly they are doing something right.
It’s summer in the northern hemisphere, and my houseplants are treating me with gorgeous new growth. Tiny lime-green leaves unfurl one at a time, to my delight. And it has made me think a lot about the idea of turning over a new leaf.
Granted, a “leaf” in this case doesn’t mean a plant leaf. The original meaning was about a book page, a “leaf” of paper. But the meaning is still interesting to me, along with the implications.
When we start fresh, make a change, transform, there is a blank slate to draw on. But we never completely start over, from scratch. We carry with us the wisdom, strength, pain, and lessons of all of the prior pages, all the growth we’ve already done.
There is no such thing as complete reinvention. We merely add rings to the tree, expand and rise.
Turning over a new leaf—either with big changes or as a small daily ethos—is a signal of health, but only when we recognize the old and new together.
We recognize the goodness of our roots, the sweetness of our soil, and we grow and grow and grow.
Thank you for reading!
Moved by this piece (or simply feel like supporting my coffee habit) and want to contribute a one-time donation? Click the Tip Jar button below!
Did this piece resonate with you? Take a moment to share it!
If you enjoy this piece, please let me know by tapping the heart to like, comment with your thoughts, share with someone you think will enjoy it, and subscribe to get instant access to my future work right to your inbox. Blessings!
Oh, thank you for sharing! My Dad always called the spiders we'd find in our house Fred 😂 I heard someone use the phrase "name it to tame it." If I can sit with a feeling or a thought long enough to name it (frustration, sorrow, anxiety, anticipation, whatever!), it's easier to understand where it comes from and what I should do with it.
I loved what you said about new leaves, and how it isn't something completely new, but something built on everything that came before. It's important to recognize where we've come from, and how all of it has contributed to where we are and where we are going. I think that allows us to let go of the trials that came before, or at least to make peace with them, because we wouldn't be where we are today without them. I think about that a lot in regards to losing my mom; I miss her all the time, even (and sometimes especially) eleven years later. But oh, what I have learned and how I have grown! There's a quote about that..."Strength and struggle go together. The supreme reward of struggle is strength. Life is a battle and the greatest joy is to overcome. The pursuit of easy things makes men weak. Do not equip yourselves with superior power and hope to escape the responsibility and work. It cannot be done. It is following the path of least resistance that makes rivers and men crooked." -Ralph Parlette
It takes some time but usually I am good at "turning a new leaf". Happy summer!