I found myself out in the garden with my uncle the other day. Him just starting his own, looking at me like I was some kind of expert.

I almost laughed.

Because just a little while ago, I was the one Googling, guessing, and hoping something—anything—would grow.

But there I was… walking him through it. Pointing to each plant. Naming what was what. Explaining what needed covering, what needed watering, what needed just a little more time—especially with that unexpected return to winter creeping back into the forecast.

“Watch this one.” “Protect that one.” “This one’s doing just fine.”

And then we got to those two patches. Just… buckets of dirt.

No green. No signs of life. No proof that anything had taken root at all.

I didn’t have a confident answer for those. I didn’t know if it was bad seed.Didn’t know if it was timing. Didn’t know if something had already failed before it ever had a chance to show itself.

But I heard myself say it anyway: “Give it two more weeks.”

Not because I had evidence… but because I understood something deeper. Everything that looks like nothing  isn’t nothing.

Some things take longer to break through. Some growth happens where you cannot see it first. Some seeds are doing their most important work in the dark. 

And maybe that’s where I am too.

Not behind.

Not forgotten.

Just… still becoming.

God is not rushing this season.

He is tending to me with intention—even in the places that look like bare soil.

Especially there.

Say this aloud with me:

I am not behind. I am not forgotten.

God is tending to me with intention, even in the quiet places.

What is meant for me is still growing, even when I cannot see it yet.

Isaiah 30:15

“In quietness and trust is your strength.”

Galatians 6:9

“Let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.”

Dear God,

Thank You for the places in my life that are growing even when I cannot see them.

Help me trust You in the waiting, in the wondering, and in the not knowing.

Give me patience for what is still beneath the surface, and faith to believe that nothing You’ve planted in me is wasted.

Remind me that I am not behind—I am still becoming.

Amen.

God sees you… trusting the soil, even when it looks like dirt.

Love, Chelle