Three tiny clay pots adorn our kitchen windowsill: basil, cilantro and parsley. All three were planted in mid-January. All three were watered diligently, every other day. All three were rotated, to get enough sun and all that jazz. All three were talked to, because I once heard that helps plants or something?
These thumbs of mine aren’t green. Maybe an off-lime at best. Crayola would call it Green Yellow.
But how hard could this planting herbs thing be? I reasoned. I can read directions. I can follow directions.
Basil seemed to thrive. Green stems gave way to green leaves and visions of pesto and caprese salads danced in my head.
But within a month, neither cilantro nor parsley had survived. They shriveled up, leaving wimpy stems dormant in the bottom of the pots. Some seeds hadn’t even taken root. The soil was both damp and dry. Although they started off okay, I guess, cilantro and parsley did little but dry up. I felt discouraged, but I kept watering them. Weeks after it was clear they were crumbling, even.
And this isn’t the part of the post where I tell you they miraculously came back to life. Quite the opposite, in fact. Really, truly, in spite of all my watering, they look pathetic.
As I continued to fruitlessly water the dead plants, I dug myself into a hole (pun intended). I can’t even nurture tiny pots of herbs, I began. What did I do wrong? Where did I fail? Too much water? Too little? Too much sun? Not enough sun?
Meanwhile, I forgot all about the basil. Green. Growing. Even thriving.
In agonizing over my missteps, I lost sight of the victory. I lost sight of the victory, the worthy-of-celebration success right in front of my eyes.
Mistakes and errors and failures have a funny way of distorting perspective. In no other area is this more obvious than in our relationships, mentoring and otherwise.
She didn’t text me back?
I’m a bad friend.
Our conversation felt forced?
I’m a crummy mentor.
See what I mean? Sometimes without even realizing it, we put on blinders that keep us from seeing the victories. We put on blinders that keep us from seeing God’s great blessings, God’s big grace, God’s evident and fruitful work.
The small victories in her life, the small steps forward in your relationship, the tiny growth in a friend’s faith . . . these are all cause for celebration, right in the middle of it all. Celebrating the small victories matters.
Furthermore, this is how we cultivate gratitude.
Big success happens when we build a base of joy and hope and appreciation for it to stand on. <–Click to Tweet
Continuing to water the dead plants doesn’t help the living ones to grow. But watering the green, thriving ones creates gratitude. God is good in so, so, so many ways.
Now excuse me, friends. I have a little basil plant to water.
Sarah, the more I think on this post the more relevant it becomes to my life! Thank you for allowing the Holy Spirit great truths to draw upon for some necessary life lessons!
I love your post. I am going to let you know that you are not alone with the plants. I put them outside and they thrived in God’s hands versus mine. The basil did die in the very cold weather but my others have taken off.
Thank you.