Standing by the kitchen window, watching the warm breeze move the giant Canna Lily leaves reminds me how life is made up of simple pleasures. A friend sent a Marco Polo asking to see the yard filled with flowers like last year, but this year I see more shade than bloom. I planted flowers late compared to most gardeners, and there’s a late night yard critter plowing their snout through the flower beds. Each morning I’d walk outside to assess how many flowers had been uprooted and cast aside.

This has been going on for months and I’m just trying to pass the test. The mornings are on repeat…put the flowers back in the ground, water them thoroughly, only to find a new path of destruction the next morning. I mentioned to Hercules, “I’m going to summon the cat’s on Third Street to take care of this villainous creature!” We had a good laugh, but then I realized summoning feral cats wouldn’t be a very good example of Spiritual maturity. Here’s a definition I heard recently…
“Spiritual maturity is suffering while waiting patiently with a good attitude while trusting God and continuing to be a blessing to other people.”
Joyce Meyer
We don’t grow when things are good.
This post was started in June when I was in the middle. The middle is when life puts us through the same type test continually with no end in sight, but this did end, and some good came of it, like less flowers to care for. This year I spent 15 minutes every few days caring for the yard, compared to an hour a day, sometimes twice a day, last year. Patience is not only the ability to wait, but how well we wait. The yard looks nothing like I planned, but all of the flowers in pots feed my soul. Keep showing up, expecting the best and make it through the middle.