I’m not much of a gardener. By that I mean that I kill plants. Unintentionally. But without fail. I tried to keep a sunflower alive — worrying about the soil, if it was getting enough sunlight, or too much, or if it was thirsty or drowning. It was a mixed outcome.

The sunflower was part of a church activity. The idea behind the sunflower was that it resembled our walk with God. As we watered the flower, we would remember that we had to water our lives with God’s Word. As the flower leaned toward the sunlight we remembered to lean toward God, recognizing that it is only through Him that we can grow.

We filled a small transparent cup with soil and planted two sunflower seeds. The growing and blooming sunflower would serve as a physical representation of our walk with God. I loved the imagery behind the idea. As we watered our seeds we watered our hearts and minds with God’s Word. I can admit that some days it’s hard to keep reading the Bible, to keep asking God to change me, anticipating the result but not the waiting period. I battle with wanting an immediate outcome. Waiting for an answer to prayer seems as daunting as sitting in front of the sunflower waiting for it to bloom.

White roots made their way through the soil to the bottom of the cup. Green buds rose from the soil that turned into small leaves in a growing strand. Later, we transferred the sunflower to a larger cup. We added more soil, more water, more sunlight and watched as green sprouted. Every day of watering the flower and watching it grow was an encouragement that, with time and care, life grows.

I’d go to my Bible with hope, praying that the time I dedicated to read and study God’s Word would make a permanent visible change in me. It’s not as simple as remembering to water a plant, though. It’s the daily commitment to sit and focus on God’s Word. It’s the daily struggle of ignoring the messy room, the errands list, and the dirty dishes, and instead focus on the verses in front of me. Unfortunately, the sunflower did not stick around for long. But the beautiful imagery did.

The sunflower reminded me that the fruits of labor are worth waiting for. Even on the days where it seems that nothing’s happening, that your prayers are bouncing off the walls, that the verses don’t have anything new to reveal or that you’re overwhelmed with failures more than overjoyed with victories— God is not finished with you or with me.

So keep going. Return to God’s Word. The seeds are growing into a beautiful flower.

My mom and I traveled to Spain to visit family a few weeks ago. I don’t have the chance to travel back there often, so it’s a special time when I can go back to my home town and see what has changed and what has not. We went to visit my Nonno who had just moved to an assisted living space outside of Madrid. Without really knowing where we were going, we hopped on the green bus. When we told the bus driver the name of the residence, she had no idea what we were talking about but said she could take us as far as we wanted. We paid for two bus tickets and figured we’d find our way somehow.

There was a man behind us who had overheard where we were going. He came up to us and said that he passed the residence on his way to work every morning and that he could walk us there if we wanted. We gratefully agreed. He chose a seat several people behind us and every once in a while I glanced back to make sure he had not left us.

We looked out the window during the drive and to my surprise I recognized several buildings. There was the grocery store and the bookstore we bought our elementary textbooks and summer reading books. We rolled through one town to the next and at every bus stop I would check to see if our guide was still there. He was.

Thirty minutes into the ride, the man approached our seat and let us know our stop was next. We followed him off the bus and crossed the street. I suddenly realized that we were following a complete stranger and trusting that he would get us where we needed to go. I had a moment of panic. I thought about what the night’s news headlines would be and how I’d dumb I’d feel if I thought about how this could have been a dangerous situation and did nothing about it.

I peeked at his profile every few steps trying to figure out how to make small talk. I don’t remember his name but he was friendly and talkative as we walked and asked each other questions about where we were from and what we were doing in that part of town. He worked at a restaurant two blocks away form where my grandfather was. I had never heard of the restaurant but he could point out the high building it was in from far back so I assumed it was well-known in the area.

We walked by a church building that reminded me of the church my family attended when I was a child. I pointed it out to my mom. The building’s surroundings were a flourishing garden with tall trees and a black metal fence. There was a man in the garden of the church who stood up and waved. The man from the bus waved back and said hello. They talked as if they were old friends just catching up. We hung around for a minute but figured we should leave to let them talk—our destination was just down the street. The man from the bus pointed out the building to make sure we didn’t miss it and wished us well. We waved at the two strangers and continued our walk.

I turned to my mom and said, “I think God just sent him to make sure we didn’t get lost.” She smiled and agreed. I feel encouraged when I think back to that day on the bus. Even far away from home, in another country, in another culture, there is still something beyond ourselves that connects us to people, to strangers, a connection that God uses to take care of His people.

Last Saturday I was reminded that small acts of hope still exist, that people can look outside of their own little world, and that compassion is more than a feeling.

I rode through the neighborhoods in my community looking for brown paper bags on front porches. I had joined members of my church the previous week and helped deliver those brown paper bags. When we delivered them, the bags were empty except for a letter and a list stapled to them. The letter talked about our food pantry and how we wanted to serve our community with donated groceries. I live in an area that’s known for its extravagant shopping mall and tablecloth restaurants. But behind the tall buildings and flashing signs there are thousands of homes. Homes with families. Families with fruitful seasons and challenging seasons. Families that are our neighbors.

The thing about neighbors is that you only really know as much as they are willing to show. And sometimes you don’t know that Joe down the street hurt his back four months ago and is having trouble finding a job outside of construction. Or that Meg across the road is a single mom and has been feeding her kids oatmeal for dinner for the past two weeks. We want to get to know our neighbors. Not for hidden motives or to advertise our ministries but simply because we have been called to love our neighbors and the food pantry was one way we knew we could. What began as a small idea of delivering two hundred bags quickly grew into a project of delivering a thousand. With that we wanted to invite the community itself to recognize the need and help us do something about it.

So we collected the bags. We drove around slower than we needed to, with the windows down and searched for a brown bag on a porch or driveway. When we saw one we’d yell “Bag!” get out of the car and pick it up. It was encouraging to see how people generously gave to neighbors who were strangers. Some families not only filled the bag we provided, but also filled two more. Another family filled a box with groceries. We had asked the community to donate and help and it was beautiful to see that they did.

I hope that those who participated realize that they did more than fill up a brown paper bag. They told another family that someone out there cares and is willing to help. They helped another family hold on for a little bit longer and worry a little bit less.

Josh and I went to the Creation Northeast Festival last week for the first time. Not only did we check off an item on our bucket list, but we also camped, worked at the vendor booths and enjoyed some great concerts.

On my last day there, I met Maddie. Maddie is a senior in high school with a passion for God’s word and the youth in her community. She teaches an 8^th grade girls Bible study at her church. She is going through a study with the girls where they talk about various topics and study Bible verses that speak truth on those topics. I asked how she liked the study and she paused before she answered.

She shared her worry that the younger teens are slowly steering away from reading the Bible and are instead relying on Bible studies and Christian curriculums. Maddie loves God’s word and is reading through the book of Job. She wants to show the younger girls in her church that the Bible is full of amazing stories depicting God’s love for His people. She hopes to take a break from the curriculum they’re using and read through a book of the Bible with them.

I was in awe of this young girl and her clear passion for God’s word. So often I see that people are intimidated by the Bible, or weary on how to approach it. Maddie grabbed it with both hands and immersed herself into the pages. She encouraged me to keep reading, keep digging, even when I feel lost in the words, because there is truth there. God spoke. And we can read what He said. Maddie also reminded me that God can use anybody, no matter their age, as long as they are willing. Maddie is a young leader, setting a godly example to those younger than she is.  She knows what she’s passionate about, what her skills and abilities are, and is using them to glorify God.

After we spoke, we prayed for each other, holding the other’s arm. When we hugged goodbye I hoped to always remember this sweet moment: two sisters in Christ encouraging one another in their walk.

I recently finished “Discipline: The Glad Surrender” by Elisabeth Elliot. Self-discipline and time management are two areas I want to grow in and so I figured reading a book with the word discipline in the title was the next obvious step.

In the book, Elliot speaks on disciplines such as discipline of the body, the mind, and time. This book was the hit to the back of the head, and the encouraging hand I needed to understand how important discipline is in my Christian walk. She wrote about how self-discipline speaks volumes about faith. Faith is not a feeling or a mood — it is obedience to God no matter what and trusting He knows better.  When I discipline my body and my mind to trust in God first and foremost, and I act in that discipline, I act on my faith.

At the end of the day, discipline is a daily choice. I wake up and I can choose to spend time in God’s Word or I can watch a television show. On my drive to work, I can choose to memorize a verse or I can turn on the radio and sing along. I don’t make the best choice every day. And I’ve learned to stop putting so much pressure on myself to get it right every time. It’s just not going to happen right away. And that’s ok.

Grace is real. Grace is abundant. I remind myself that I just need to always get up, ready to fight for my relationship, ready to keep going and desiring to please and obey God. To do so, I rely on God’s grace. That’s where I start. One day at a time.

“When the will of man acts in accord with the will of God, that is faith. When the will of man acts in opposition to the will of God, that is unbelief.” — Elisabeth Elliot.