Unfurled: A Lesson in Christian Growth
It was Monday morning.
I had passed a rather frustrating night, full of tossing and turning and desperately trying to get to sleep, to succeed only as far as accomplishing a fitful doze now and then. And, of course, as happens on such nights, I had fallen soundly asleep just before my alarm alerted me that it was now time to wake up.
After dragging myself to consciousness, I reached down for my prayer notebook and began my time with God, trying to keep myself from drifting off again. I struggled through my prayer time, trying not to be grumpy about my drowsiness, and was just about to begin my daily Bible reading, when I happened to glance over at the plant on my nightstand.
Each spring, I buy a few plants to keep in my room –and each year those plants are dead before the end of the summer. In choosing this year’s victims, however, I decided to go to a garden center and see if one of the employees could tell me what kind of plant I could actually keep alive.
After talking with a very kind and patient “plant person,” I cautiously purchased a couple of shade-loving, drought-resistant plants that were supposed to be nearly unkillable… and then I bought a parlor palm.
It was a total impulse-buy. I had read about parlor palms and thought I might like to have one eventually –if I could ever keep a plant alive for more than three months.
So when I walked into Walmart with newly-boosted confidence in my plant-growing abilities and spotted the small, bushy tangle of leaves, I bought it, heedless of the tag on the pot that said “I like bright sun!”
(Note: Walmart’s plants are often mislabeled. I found out later that the parlor palm likes exactly the kind of dappled light that shines in through my window, and bright direct sunlight would have harmed it.)
As I write this, I have had the palm only two weeks, but I am thrilled to say that it appears not only to be “not dying,” but actually to be thriving!
Soon after I brought the palm home, I noticed that there were some green spears in among the soft tangle of fronds. Wondering what they were, I kept an eye on them, and was delighted to find that the spears were new fronds, the leaves tightly spiraled together around the stem.
I have paid more attention to that palm than any plant I have ever owned, watching each day as the new leaves unwind just a little bit more. Those first two spears have now unfurled into full leafy splendor, and several more spears have arisen to begin the process again.
That morning as I looked at the healthy strong fronds that had been all tightly wrapped together just a week ago, something inside me stirred.
I want to be like that. I thought to myself. I want to be thriving.
You see, that palm illustrated to me how Christian growth is intended to work.
We are to grow more and more like Christ each day, to have Christlikeness unfurl a little more in us day by day as we turn our faces to the light of His Word and His presence. (2 Corinthians 3:18)
Instead, we often hold our habits, moods, and opinions close around us, not wanting to let God unfurl the beauty of Christ in us.
Before opening my Bible that morning, I stopped for a moment and surrendered my frustration over the lack of rest I’d had to God. Instead of whining or grumbling any more, I asked Him to help me flourish despite (or, as I suspected, because of) my exhaustion –to unfurl me just a little more today, that I might bask in His glory, strong, healthy, and rejoicing in the light of His presence.
As I read, the Holy Spirit quietly pointed out the last verse of Psalm 90, which mirrored the prayer of my heart as I began the busy week ahead of me: still tired, still busy, but at last beginning to unfurl.
“And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us: and establish Thou the work of our hands upon us; yea, the work of our hands establish Thou it.” (Psalm 90:17)