The Season Beneath the Surface

There is a strange kind of faith required in gardening. Not the dramatic kind, not the kind that moves mountains. The quiet kind, the kind that presses a seed into the soil and walks away. This spring, I’ve spent a lot of time staring at patches of dirt. Some of them are full of promise and some of them are full of weeds. A few of them seem determined to remain completely unchanged no matter how much attention I give them. If I’m being honest, there have been moments when I’ve looked at my garden and thought, “Surely something should be happening by now.” 

The funny thing is that the garden doesn’t care about my timeline. Seeds germinate when conditions are right. Roots develop before leaves appear. Trees spend years establishing themselves before they produce much fruit. Some of the most important growth happens entirely underground. That’s easy to forget when you’re looking for visible progress. 

Lately, I’ve realized life works much the same way. Over the last few years there have been losses, changes, moves, unexpected turns, and more uncertainty that I would have chosen. There have been seasons where it felt like everyone else was blooming while I was standing in the dirt wondering what exactly I was doing wrong. 

But maybe, not every season is meant for blooming. Maybe some seasons are for rooting, maybe some are for healing. Maybe some seasons are for becoming strong enough to support the growth that comes later. When I look around our little homestead, I see reminders of that everywhere. The fruit trees aren’t mature yet. The garden beds aren’t finished. The animals don’t magically solve all the problems. Everything is still becoming. And so am I. 

I think that’s one of the lessons the garden keeps trying to teach me. Growth isn’t always visible. Sometimes the most important work happens where no one can see it. Sometimes faith looked like watering an empty patch of soil. Sometimes hope looks like planting anyway. And sometimes the bravest thing we can do is trust that what is happening beneath the surface matters, even when we can’t yet see the results. 

So this week, if you’re feeling discouraged because life doesn’t look the way you hoped it would by now, consider this your reminder. The seed isn’t failing because it hasn’t become a flower yet. The roots matter too. Keep watering. Keep tending. Keep showing up. Your season will come.