Flowers

Its funny what we remember. my Dad was a horrible gardener, he loved the thought of growing his own vegetables (especially tomatoes) and flowers, but was easily discouraged by his lack of natural ability. I get my struggles with horticulture from him. I know in my brain what to do, I've been instructed by some of the best. I know what to do with my hands, I've been taught numerous times to plant, transfer, etc... But the watering is what I can't get a handle on. Neither could Dad. I used to laugh and shake my head every time I would see him hauling water to potted plants around our house. He would wait until it rained, as if it triggered the memory of the flowers needing water. He would see me and smile, saying "elana I figure God is the master-gardener... and if He needs to water His flowers, then so do I." Which of course would crack me up and I would say, "Ok Dad, you go right ahead."

I hadn't thought of that in years... And today as I was on my way home from a meeting, it began to sprinkle. I thought of my Dad. When I got home, I filled the pitcher and began watering my plants...

I know it sounds silly, to water when its raining...
but I figure God is the master-gardener...
if He needs to water His flowers,
then so do I.