faith as a mustard seed

so just fyi I am a small time indoor gardener, well, actually I just grow basil in the summer. I mix it in with heirloom tomatoes in september, and it makes the best sauce ever.

I am always fascinated by these basil plants.  I bought a packet of seeds 6 years ago, and I am still using them.  Every year they sprout up.  No preservatives, no refrigeration.  That whole design and spark of a living thing sits in those seeds waiting for the opportunity, of dirt, water, and sunshine.  How it senses the dirt and water and sunshine, it’s a wonderment.

The seeds then sprout with these little starter leaves, doesn’t look like basil at all, then those leaves collect enough sunlight to get the real process going.  And what is even weirder, these seeds know if they are in a small pot; they adjust their leaf size accordingly, long before the roots ever hit the sides of the pot.

Anyway, years ago I had this vague vision in my mind that I wanted to be a “speaker.”  I saw myself standing up in front of a crowd talking.  That’s it.  That was  . . . the seed.  I really did not know much more than that.

So as this adventure has progressed, only by actually getting into the proceeding have I been able to come to the next step and the next.  Unless you’re an expert, you can’t tell all that much about what a seed is, unless you throw it in a pot and watch it grow.  Most seeds don’t even look like seeds, just looks like a little black pebble.

I am realizing that the capabilities and energies that were buried within me were largely invisible to me.   I was trying to discover the power of courage, but I did not know that it, like that entire basil plant encased in that little 1 mm seed, was all in there.  Just needed some cultivation.

(c) Justin Locke


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