Hi Friends,
Today, I'm feeling weary. Covid stuff drags on and on. Problems I think I've solved don't get solved and need to be revisited again and again and again. Doctor appointments need to be made, people need to be called or emailed, forms need to be filled out, the kitchen needs to be cleaned AGAIN, taxes need to be done, kids need help with stuff, repairs are waiting to be done, and redone, animals need their daily care. So, I need to head out to the mailbox, and the barn (I will avoid the kitchen for now). On the way, I'll see green grass which will die out in a couple months. I'll see some wildflowers which will die out sooner. And I'll ice plant. Lots of ice plant. Ice plant doesn't die out. It NEVER dies out.
Today, I need the lesson of the ice plant . . .
The Beauty of Ice Plant
I hate ice plant. At least, I used to.
It grows wild all over my 16-acre ranch. It grows in the pasture. It grows in the lawn, it grows in the dog area. It grows in the landscaping alongside my husband’s office. It even grows in the dirt circle in the middle of my driveway where even the weeds die. And then it grows over the pavement itself.
Last fall, I decided I had had enough. Armed with giant metal rakes, thick gloves, fat clippers, sharp hoes, and fierce determination, I tackled the most prevalent patches. I ripped, I tore, I pulled, until every bit was demolished from my driveway.
Or at least I thought so.
The driveway remained ice-plant-free over the winter. But then, as the spring came I began to see the start of new plants breaking through the soil. By the beginning of summer, the ice plant was back in all its glory. Its flowers bloomed purple and yellow all over my property again, not just in the areas where I had pulled it out, but also in new areas where new patches had sprung up.
As summer draws on, there is no longer anywhere I can walk on my property where the flowers of the ice plant aren’t visible.
And I have to admit (quietly, mind you, and never out loud), that ice plant can be, well, rather beautiful. There’s just something about it that has started to stir my soul. Perhaps it’s because of all the flowers that bloom, ice plant may just be the one that God most wants me to emulate.
James 1:4, 11-12, (NIV) reads, “Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. … For the sun rises with scorching heat and withers the plant; its blossom falls and its beauty is destroyed… [But] Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.”
To not wither in the heat of life … that is blessedness. To be not easily uprooted, not easily beaten, not easily discouraged … that is blessedness. To be determined to grow, to flourish, no matter what the circumstances … that is blessedness indeed.
God, by his grace, can make me an ice plant. He can give me the endurance, the grit, to bloom where there is little water, where the dirt seems dry. And he can give me the grace to grow back strong and healthy when circumstances, or when others, do their best to pull me up and cause me to wilt.
So, what does it take to grasp that grace, to thrive and bloom, to grow back fuller, stronger, more vibrant after significant setbacks?
Maybe we should look more closely at the ice plant. It stores water in its leaves so it doesn’t need much sustenance from around it. We store God’s truth in our hearts so we may draw on it during dry and difficult times. The ice plant is resistant to salty environments. We, too, can be resistant to the saltiness and spite of others. When there’s too much rain, ice plant disengages pieces that are beginning to rot so that they don’t damage the whole. We too should look to cut out the rotting places of our lives so that what is healthy can flourish. Ice plant can be easily propagated. We too can cast the love and goodness of Christ far and wide that it may grow and spread.
I think of hot house roses that die without the proper care. I think of the beautiful lilies that my family got me for Mother’s Day, that quickly withered and turned brown. I think of the African violets that I love but can never keep alive. They’re beautiful, for a time.
But I don’t want to be a rose, a lily, a violet. I want to be an ice plant. I want to bloom even in the fiercest opposition. I want to fill the land with beauty even when I’m not liked, even when I’m not appreciated.
I want to bloom anyway.
Because God loves me. And he has made me to endure.
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