Christmas Cactus

I grew up as a tom boy. I LOVED everything dirty and adventurous. I would play for hours in the sandbox making tunnels and roads and flooding the cities I had created. I played with Legos and transformers. I built tree houses, climbed fences, and trees. I could outrun every boy in my school, and I thought it an honor to be unique and different from the other girls I knew.

Fast forward 20 years. When my third son was born, looking around my environment I did not see anything feminine, I did not own any make up. I did not do my hair. I wore ponytails and thought little about shopping or makeovers. Upon realizing that I was feeling quite lonely as a woman...I started toying with the idea of pink. I went shopping looking for anything pink. I found a pink shirt that I absolutely loved and put it on. My husband almost feinted. "You've never worn that color before, it looks so strange on you."

I agreed as it looked foreign to me as well. And it did not look bad.

I started wearing my new pink shirt every week and I became more accustom to the feelings of tying my connection to how I felt as a woman, with the clothes I would choose for my body. Slowly many more pink items showed up in my wardrobe.

With the announcement of my fourth baby boy (Yes, I have four sons) I became quite enmeshed in the color pink. I needed some femininity around me. Pink was the best way to accomplish this.

It was about this time I received a Christmas Cactus from a neighbor. I had seen them before, but I had never owned one. I started to water it and tried to keep it alive. As it started to grow amazing things happened. It's new growth was pink. I could completely wrap my head around a strange little cactus that had pink ends. What a happy little plant I had discovered.
Imagine my joy one day when I discovered a happy pink flower at the end of one of it's leaves one October morning. Not only were the ends pink, but it produced pink flowers. If you thought I liked these plants already, my love and appreciation shot up  by a mere 100%.

I kept it alive for 2 years.

The night I moved to Idaho, it was left out in the cold and it froze. Not willing to accept the death of my plant, I moved it next to the vent, gave it water, and placed it in my south facing window. Maybe it could survive. There was always hope.

Nope.

I was completely devastated. I had loved that strange little green and pink plant.

I went out searching for another one within the week. This new one had 9 beautiful pink blooms. I knew it was the one for me.

Upon bringing it home the petals were bumped and I lost the first 6 flowers. I was so sad. But there were three left. Within the day my beautiful cactus lost the remaining flowers.

I felt pretty devastated. But there it is still alive. I can water it, love it, tell it how beautiful it is, send it loving energy! Soon before I know it, it will have tiny pink buds popping out.

Two months later I was watering my plant, sending positive energy and love to my cactus, when I felt a pang of disappointment. I so very much would like to see a blossom. I checked all the new growth. I was sad. They all turned out to be leaves. I checked in anticipation each week to see the progress of my beautiful little green and pink plant. Each week I would feel more disappointment. You know how much I like those little pink petals after all.

One day feeling a little impatient, and once again disappointed that I found no buds, I put the plant down as to not disrupt it with my negative thoughts. I felt the thoughts go through my head as if my plant was actually speaking, "Be patient with me. I am a plant. I grow at my own pace. Be patient. I am a plant."

The clarity of the thought that came to me surprised me a little because it was one of those instances where my soul was touched.

I had gotten so excited about the potential and possibilities of having the pink blossoms, I had forgotten to enjoy the moment, and not rush my beautiful little plant.


Let's jump ahead three weeks. I was in the kitchen, thinking about the lack of progress or headway I was making in recovery. I was feeling impatient with something I had done, when I had the keys and tools, but had not chosen to engage and make my actions consistent with my knowledge. I knew that I needed to surrender the situation to the Lord, and yet I was clinging on to my control.

This is when the Spirit had a chance to speak from the Lord to my heart. A picture of the plant flashed through my mind. I head again the words, "be patient with me." But this time there was something new. "I was not talking about the plant that day. I was talking about you." New words replaced the thoughts I had felt three weeks previous:

 "Be patient with yourself. You are my daughter. You are growing at your own pace. Be patient. You are my daughter."

Again I identified, I am so excited for the end when I have found healing and recovery...it is a beautiful thought to me. I crave it and I long to be whole.

I walk past my plant sometimes. I water it every week like normal. I love looking at the pink growth, and sending it my love, but now when I look at its leaves, it is not to check for progress, but it is to congratulate it for its growth. I have relaxed. I have recognized in this plant a little piece of myself. I see my own recovery. I have taken the thoughtful tenderness of being patient and gentle with my Christmas Cactus and applied this same tenderness with myself and my own pace. I know I can slow it down, be patient, and just sit back and enjoy the beauty that comes with complete surrender to the Lord. Tomorrow will come soon enough. I can enjoy the beauty of everything I am today.