Last night I re-potted all of my plants. It was time for a fresh start. I liked the way the soil felt under my pink fingernails, but how lovely it felt when I scrubbed it all away - a fresh start for my hands and my plants. It makes me think of a lot of things, really, but especially the lyrics to an Ingrid Michaelson song, Starting Now.
Speaking of soil (I must confess that I have three separate/unrelated ideas to include in this post, but I will do my very best to connect them anyway), the other day I read this:
"Tragedy is the fertile soil of miracles. ... it seems the way to deal with the evil of the world is not to pretend to go around it, but to plunge right through . ... I believe sometimes bad things happen to good people so we can watch God turn the greatest tragedies into the purest love." -Athol Dickson, from The Gospel According to Moses.
I have watched this happen time and again in my life. I hope you have, too.
And finally, Love. I suppose at nineteen, I'm still too young to understand it. Mostly I know this because I thought I did, and not all that long ago. I was under the impression that it was quite simple. It's not. It's not a bad thing to be too young - I just still have a lot of things to learn about life and Him and the world and other people and myself.
"Teach me and I will be silent; show me where I have been wrong." -Job 6:24
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