the cascade of events that led me to Fern

Right after I quit my job in June, I was happily strolling the aisles of a bargain store when I came across an adorable, teal plant stand and quickly snatched it up. Soon, my cart was full of odds-and-ends, and pre-buyers remorse was rearing its ugly head. I was, after all, unemployed and had no business shopping. Standing there, I remembered I had been given a gift-card as a parting gift from my job, so I rationalized my purchase and went about my day.

When I got home, I realized my new plant stand was for a fern. Not only that, it held a very specific sized pot.  So over the next few weeks, I payed special attention to the potted plants at any store I went to and quickly realized finding the right size fern may be an issue. I contemplated taking the stand back, but figured I would try a garden center first. So the next chance I got, I stopped at Lowe's and found the fern section. Much to my dismay, all the ferns were huge.

If you know me, you know I'm a magnet to a clearance rack. I was checking it out and sure enough, a small fern was sitting right there. But it wasn't good news. The little guy was a mess. It was the most wacky shaped, bone dry, hot mess of a house plant I had ever seen. When I realized how dry all the clearance plants were, it made me sad because I thought they all still deserved to be watered. I looked at this little fern and my heart accepted the challenge of bringing it back to life. I needed a distraction from all that was upside-down in my life. As a firm believer in talking to plants, I whispered ,"I think we need each other' and proceeded to the register. On my way to the car, I continued to whisper sweet-nothings like, "I believe in you" and "don't worry, I'll take care of you."

Once I was home, I put it its teal stand and gave it water. It looked better by the end of the day. But over the next few weeks, I saw little improvement. The center of branches were just so dry, I figured my nurturing was too little too late. I considered re-potting it, but then it would no longer fit in the cute stand I had solely purchased it for. I had a decision to make, re-pot it, or see how long it could last. Finally, I realized is was killing it, so I re-potted it and put it on the front porch. Meanwhile, my adorable plant stand stood empty.

Over the months, three to be exact, it has thrived. It's tripled in size, has become a vibrant shade of green, and it's starting to take the beautiful, cascading shape a proper fern should have.

Yesterday I was sitting on my porch, processing some disappointing information concerning one of my children's fate in an art program. I was telling the Lord how my child has been through enough uprooting and I thought we were done with all the changes. As I sat and basked in self-pity, the fern caught my eye. I admired how big and beautiful it was, a sharp contrast to the day I bought it for $1. We were both a mess that day. Oh how far we've come.
I took in the moment, snapped a picture with a brief description and posted in on Instagram.

As I went about the tasks of the day, I'd feel the ache in my heart for my child, and then I'd think of the plant. Feel the ache, think of the plant. I finally realized God was trying to tell me something, so I started listening. He said, "You know the biggest problem with the plant? It had outgrown its pot."
I thought that for a minute, I never considered the biggest problem being the pot, I just figured it was neglected and hadn't been watered. But then I realized what landed the fern on the clearance rack wasn't neglect, rather the garden center doesn't re-pot plants, it's not within their scope. They take care of the plants until they reach a certain stage and then they're done. This is why after watering it for weeks I saw little improvement. It wasn't until I put it in a bigger pot it started to thrive. Of course, looking back now it makes perfect sense, but I had tied it all together until yesterday.

The truth about that plant stand is although it is adorable, it could never hold a mature fern. It could hold a baby one, but there will always be point when the fern will need to be taken out and relocated in order so survive. The plant stand represents my preconceived ideas of where I should be, or how things should look. This revelation put a lot into perspective for me, and shows me how my innate fear of change sometimes causes me failure to thrive.

The concern for my child took me right back to mourning the old, but yesterday, through the live illustration on my front porch, I made a fresh decision to grow where I'm planted. Anything God does in my life is a good thing and it's for a reason. And the same goes for my children. If this opportunity doesn't work out, there will be another one. I will not mourn for yesterday's provision, rather pursue this day and all of it's beauty. I will look back only to reflect on how far I've come.

Me and Fern, we're in this together.