Tropical plants, babies, and Jesus

I have a new plant obsession.

Someone gave me this incredible tropical plant, and I put it on my desk at work, where I can stare at it like a proud plant parent instead of doing whatever is actually on my calendar. It is gorgeous. Bright green leaves. A huge, dramatic red center. Tropical. Fabulous. Slightly excessive.

Basically, if a plant could walk into a room wearing a red feather boa and announce, “I have arrived,” this would be her. And I love her. But recently, I noticed something concerning. The red was turning green. Not all at once. Just little patches at the ends of some of those beautiful red leaves. Naturally, I assumed the worst. What have I done? Too much water? Not enough water? Too much sun? Not enough sun?

Had I somehow managed to ruin this magnificent plant? So I did what any responsible gardener does when confronted with a horticultural emergency. I Googled it.

And that's when I learned something I had absolutely no idea about.

My beautiful plant is a bromeliad, and those spectacular red “leaves” in the center aren't really permanent red leaves at all. They're bracts surrounding the plant's bloom. And eventually, as part of the plant's normal life cycle, they begin to lose their brilliant color and turn green. Wait. So I wasn't killing it? It was supposed to do this?

Well. That was a relief. But then I kept reading. The article essentially said: Don't worry so much about the fading mother plant. Look around the base. Look for babies.Whaaaat? So I immediately went over to my plant and started investigating.

And sure enough...THERE THEY WERE. Two tiny baby plants growing right beside her. I had been so busy staring at what my plant was losing that I completely missed what she was growing.

And right there at my desk, Jesus had something to say to me.

Maybe fading isn't always failing.

We tend to have a pretty specific idea of what flourishing looks like.

Bright.
Beautiful.
Productive.
Growing.
Successful.
Vibrant.

RED.

And when something that used to feel vibrant begins to fade, our immediate reaction can be: Uh-oh. Something must be wrong.

Maybe you've experienced that in your faith. There are seasons when God feels incredibly close. You're learning. Growing. Hearing from Him. You can't wait to open your Bible. And then there are seasons that aren't quite so...red.

The excitement settles. The thing God called you to doesn't feel new anymore. A role you've loved changes. Something you built gets handed to someone else. Your children grow up. Your influence looks different. A ministry shifts. A dream changes. And we can look at what isn't as colorful as it once was and wonder:

God, am I doing something wrong?

Maybe not. Maybe something is simply changing. Because here's what I love about my ridiculous little tropical theology lesson:

While the color was fading above the soil, new life was quietly forming underneath it.

I couldn't see it because I wasn't looking for it. Jesus said:

This Week’s Faith Habit

Look for the babies.

Once each day this week, take two minutes and ask Jesus one simple question: Jesus, what are You growing that I might be missing?

Then pay attention. Look for the tiny thing. A conversation that mattered. A person you're influencing. A new desire God is stirring. A prayer that's beginning to change. A door that's cracking open. A bit of growth in someone you've invested in.

Write down one sign of new life each day. Because sometimes we're staring at the red turning green and thinking something has gone terribly wrong... while God is down at the bottom saying,

Lisa. Look at the babies.