If you have
known me for longer than about a half an hour, you probably know that I am not
a fan of big life changes, particularly ones I didn’t choose. Eventually I adapt and learn to love and
thrive in the new circumstances, but it is a hard process and leaving the
familiar is very difficult. Moving has
always been that way for me. We moved
five times as a family and I was devastated every time. I eventually came to think of a big change in
my life as if I were a plant that had been pulled out and left without
roots. Eventually as I was planted in a
new place, my roots would grow deep again and I would learn to thrive…knowing
that it was entirely possible that eventually I would be pulled up again and
have to regrow roots and the cycle would just continue over and over again.
I will always remember being in the kitchen at a Young
Women/Young Men activity on May 8th, 2018 when someone said “Hey,
did you hear the announcement that the church is leaving Scouting?” I read the
news article on my phone and while I was excited for the new program, I was sad
to see the association end, and more than a little nervous for my job future,
particularly in Utah. As time went on
and Friends of Scouting donations drastically declined and people showed less
and less interest, my worries grew, but I had faith that Heavenly Father was
aware of me and my friends and would help us.
As time went on and things drastically changed, I prayed and prayed for
a miracle that somehow all four of us at our office would be able to stay. But that was not to be. On March 31st, the decision I had
been dreading for almost two years happened, three out of the four of us, including
myself, were let go. I had definitely
had struggles and difficult times over the four years I was there, but I really
loved my job and the people I worked with.
Despite having faith and trust in Heavenly Father that it would all work
out, I was heartbroken. Once again, I
felt like I had been ripped up and left without roots.
One of the last fun things I had done at my office was start
my little flower garden plant. I moved
it around to different windows in the office depending on where the light was,
misted it 2-3 times a day, and one of the first things I did in the morning was
check to see how it had grown over night.
It was great fun. About a week
and a half after I had been laid off, my plant started to wilt. One single
flower bud had opened up but the rest of it was dying. With my recent loss, I was desperate to find
a way for my plant to be okay and thrive again. I researched what the problem
might be—was I watering it too much, was I watering too little? Maybe it seems
silly, but I began to pray that my plant would be okay again. After a few days,
it didn’t look any better. Finally my
dad suggested that maybe it needed to be re-potted. I hadn’t thought of that, as I don’t have
much experience with plants. That night,
as I went to bed I had a clear picture in my mind of running a butter knife
around the edge of the pot to help re-pot the plant. I knew that was what needed to happen. The next day, my mom helped me. As we moved the plant from one pot to the
other one, my mom said that the plant was definitely pot-bound. “What does that mean?” I asked. She
explained that the roots didn’t have any room to grow and that’s why the plant
was wilting. Within in a few hours of
being put in another pot, my dear little plant perked up and I was so relieved.
The next morning I was getting ready for the day, when something
extraordinary happened. I saw in my mind the way my plant looked when
we transplanted it to another pot…the
roots were still intact. Then came a
sweet revelation into my heart that not only comforted me, but completely
changed the way I think about change. It
went something like this. “You haven’t understood. I am trying to preserve and protect your
roots, not destroy them. You have never
lost your roots, they are the core of who you are. They will always be with you. You have just been moved from pot to pot sometimes
because you have become pot-bound and can no longer grow in this place. There
are other places and people you need and who need you. I know you feel sad. I know you wish you could have stayed. But trust me, you are not without roots. I’ve got you. I am the Master Gardener and I am preparing a
wonderful new place for you to grow, thrive and blossom. “
Today my plant has dozens
of blossoms on it and has and grown so much that I will be re-potting it
today. I am so grateful for this goal
and for a loving Heavenly Father who timed things so perfectly that I will
always have this precious parable to treasure and learn from all my life. I am still sad about the loss of my job but I
know that when you lose something you love it’s okay to be sad. I know that I will be okay. I know my friends will be okay. I know that Scouting will be okay. God is the
Master Gardner and He is always creating something beautiful.