For the better half of two years, my favorite cactus plant has failed to bloom. This plant is a clipping from the same plant that my Granny had. She passed away when I was only ten. My Aunt Dot kept the plant and has taken clippings from it throughout the years and shared with us. So my plant is something that has been alive for many, many years and belonged to a very special person in my life. Every year, around Easter and Thanksgiving, this cactus blooms. Every year except for the past two. It didn’t matter what window I put it in, it wasn’t going to bloom. It didn’t even bloom when I left it in the direct sunlight on my front porch. It’s like it was holding out on me.
If you have been following my blog, you know that the past two years have been UNBELIEVABLE in the Johnson household. From my daughter’s broken back to my husband’s job loss and many things in between, we’ve been through it. Through it all, we’ve been waiting. Waiting. Waiting. It seems like that’s the theme of our family. I have been waiting for two years for my book to be published. (I have a contract with OakTara Publishing). My husband waited patiently for a job and then when he got one, it failed to meet our expectations. Now he’s waiting for a new job, while thankful for the one he has. My son and my daughter both have been waiting for things to happen in their lives, as well.
So the other day, as I opened my blinds on my dining room windows to let in the sunlight, I noticed a small bloom on my cactus!
I literally freaked out! Something surged through my body. A hopefulness. It was like a sign from God that He had not forgotten us. And a reminder that He is the Master Gardener and that He knows when the proper time is for something to bud. He knows when we’re ready for things to go into full bloom and He doesn’t allow certain things to blossom until He knows we’re truly ready for it and that we will be overwhelmingly thankful for it.
Now there are three full blooms on the cactus and more buds popping up every day!
I know that our time in the desert is just about over. Our drought is ending. And when it does, we will reap such a harvest that we’ll be able to share with so many that are in need. We will forever testify to God’s faithfulness, a faithfulness that is there even during times when we are doubtful. We will share of our surplus. We will sew and reap more and sow and reap again and again. And until that day comes, we are thanking Him in advance for what He has done.
“And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten, the cankerworm, and the caterpillar, and the palmerworm, my great army which I sent among you” (Joel 2:25).