dirty, musty pots
I like plants. I don't claim to be a botanist or really know one genus or species or whatever from another ... I just like the idea that there is this living organism in front of me, and I can watch it grow and change, and that somehow I can actually be involved in this process -- simply by throwing some water in the plant's direction now and then, and placing it near a window where it can get some light. How wild is that, as if I actually really know what all is involved in this thing processing light, water, and nutrients and somehow turning that into energy.Truth be told, I like playing in the dirt. I always have. When I was younger and my sister was in the house playing with her Barbies, I was sneaking away her other Barbies and burying them in the backyard. Ok, so Barbies aren't really the same as mums and daisies, but the common denominator is the dirt. Something about the feel and smell of dirt, I don't know ... I think I'm just weird.
Anyway, back to the point. Over the weekend, I actually had some free time to do some stuff around my house. I discovered some forgotten dirty clay pots alongside of my house, and I decided they needed to be filled. So I went and visited my local garden store, and bought a few plants and some flowers, and I went to town. Now let me tell you, these pots were UGLY. They were all dirty, and they smelled a little from the dead plants that I had left in them from last fall ... so I cleaned them up a bit, and pulled out the lifeless, dried up flowers. I dusted away the cobwebs and filled them with new bright-colored mums. The change was incredible. These pots that had served no purpose (except to be covered by weeds and grass) now had a use. They had a meaning. Their role was to hold these flowers, for passersby to look at and admire. And I couldn't help but remember 2 Corinthians 4:7: "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us." So that's me. I was the dirty, musty pot ... and God found me, covered by the weeds of my life ... and He cleaned me up. He gave me a new purpose, and He filled me with beauty for others to look at and admire. Good stuff.
Something that happens now and then with my houseplants is that they outgrow their pots. The life is so abundant that they need more space to grow and further their beauty. That's how our lives should be ... we're just these pots that should be overflowing with the life and beauty that God provides. And the beauty should spill into other lives (pots) because it is growing and flourishing in our own lives.
So I want to be a pot. Good thing, because I already am one. I'm a dirty, broken, smelly pot ... but God dusts away the cobwebs, pulls out the lifeless junk that's filling me, and somehow gives me a new purpose of holding something beautiful for others to see.
Cool.
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