Growing Something New

I am growing a small herb garden. Well, actually I am

trying

to grow a small herb garden. I say "trying" because I am not at all sure if I am doing it correctly. Where's a mentor when you need one? I know that there is a lot of information on the Internet, yes thousands of pages devoted to teaching overwhelmed stay-at-home moms and retired persons how to become semi-professional horticulturalists, but I learn best by seeing and then doing. I miss the days where you learned how to do something by learning from someone who had mastered it. I want someone to be my apprentice.

So, like I said, I started this garden. It's new. It's so new that it hasn't even seen daylight because it was planted thirty minutes ago. I'd like to share a few things that struck me as I planted.

First, I was amazed at how teeny, tiny the seeds were. I mean you could mistake them for drops of dirt if you didn't know better. If I saw them on my kitchen counter, I would undoubtedly think that they were crumbs, wondering which of my housemates had failed to wipe off the counter... Holding the seeds in my hands carefully, so that they didn't fall, it was hard to fathom that herbs and plants could spring forth from things so miniscule in size.

With joyful visions of basil and oregano filled dishes dancing in my head, my excitement began to wane once I read how long it would take for them to grow. I wouldn't see any results for 1 1/2 to 2 months! Now while I recognized logically that this is not a long time, I was disappointed emotionally. I wanted an herb garden NOW! And if not now, then

at least

in two weeks!

Although still fairly young and definitely young at heart, I consider myself to be "old school." I like R&B more than rap, and I prefer having Ebony magazine delivered to me versus reading it online. But I felt like I was acting like one of my adolescent students when I became frustrated that something that takes months to cultivate wasn't happening instantaneously. I guess I'm not as mature as I thought.

Now I realize that this garden will require a new kind of patience, and maybe even a little perseverance. I say perseverance because I know myself. I will water the seeds day after day wondering if anything is  happening. After three weeks, I will question if I planted them properly.  

Did I space them out enough?

  After four weeks, I may allow myself to be convinced that I did something wrong. By week five, I will be tempted to abort my mission, convinced that I should focus on projects where success is guaranteed--like writing an article or performing before a packed auditorium.

Yes,

all

of this might transpire because I feel like I don't know what I'm doing. I've never done this before, and so I'm doubtful (yet still hopeful) about success. Perhaps this is because vestiges of perfectionism linger in my being, like microscopic leeches waiting to deplete the joy from my life.

I need a little faith. Not a lot, just a little. I know that one seed of faith, although small in size, will be great in presence.

My prayer for my garden is that it grows to provide nourishment for my friends and family. My prayer for myself is that God would grow my faith as I follow Him into new ventures, producing fruit from now until eternity.