A Bruised Reed Part 2

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about my lack of horticulture skills. This follows on from that.

God and I talked over the plant's three straggly leaves as I sought to nurture it back to health. Tobey sparked one of those conversations I’d have with God with her new found party trick of astounding anyone who would enter our home with my devotion to this plant. She'd describe how I would go and look for new shoots and leaves several times a day. That my delight in this plant was so much so that I knew the difference in the leaf count from morning to evening.

‘Do you remember that every hair on your head is counted by me too?’ gently asked God.

I had always thought of God’s all-knowing involvement in our lives and now I see it attached to the intimate delight He takes in all of our changes; of growth or decline.

Another conversation that has sat profoundly with me, which God is continuing on from the plant into one of Dr John Swinton’s on-line courses I am taking, is the value of the bruised reed. I had accepted God’s care of a bruised reed, a smouldering wick, as a sign of His great mercy and love. Now I am coming to see also His giving honour and endowing dignity to all that we are and all that we bring.

My encouragement then: if you are feeling like a vibrant, lush green leaf, look around you and, in gratitude, see the bruised, tatty, cat-eaten leaves that have enabled the Spirit to build up the body that you are rooted into.

If you are feeling wilted, maybe not as vibrant or able as you once were or desire to be, take encouragement that your efforts are vitally important for the whole body to thrive. That you are an absolute delight to God and an important part in His mission and His church.

Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. (Luke 12:7)

Colleen