“You know, for a while I wasn’t sure what was going to happen with that garden bed..”

I look across the room to where he stands at the window. Evening quickly encloses us with deep blue storm clouds. “Yeah..” I say, the memories rushing like the tide, “I know..”

On a miserably cold weekend in May, we spent 2 days building a raised garden bed, digging up dirt, and dreaming of cucumbers growing in the heat of summer. We planted our fragile little seeds with great care and precision, excited for what the future held for our little garden bed. Then, it rained. Hard. And we walked outside to find a garden bed with not enough drainage and a rock-hard crust of dirt suffocating the life out of our plants.

I may or may not have cried at one several points. We may or may not have fought at some point too. Although it felt futile, we tried again. Much to our surprise, after days of looking out the window, we found sprouts. Strong and resilient, we continued to watch them grow. And throughout the coming weeks, our hope grew along with them.

As the summer went on, the sprouts grew to withstand the Nebraska wind, the scorching hot sun, and the multiple hail storms we’ve had. Hope has been a very delicate thing this summer. Just as we become confident and sure, the clouds bring hail, or the wind whips harder, or the forecast calls for heavy rain once again.

Every time, I hold my breath. Every time, my hope dangles by a thread. Every time, I doubt.But every time, it continues to flourish beyond my imagination.

Now the garden bed literally overflows with life. I have come inside the house hands full as green beans and tomatoes cover the countertops.  And God continues to whisper, “When will you trust me?”

Sending out support letters made this decision all the more real to us, and while we are excited, we are taking the biggest step of faith we have ever taken. This journey has left my hope dangling by a thread on multiple occasions. When the rain clouds come in, I worry that He won’t protect. When hail the size of golfballs pelts the ground, I doubt that He sees. When we are faced with raising monthly support, I wonder how He will provide. When the details are still left unknown to us, I panic that somehow He has lost control. When “what-if’s” plague my mind, I fail to remember His perfect sovereignty and grace for every season

All the while, the garden bed sits smack in the middle of the big picture-window in our living room.

There’s an undeniable beauty in the way I cannot help but see it on a daily basis. To every day hear Him whisper, “Trust me, and let me grow it beyond your wildest expectations..”