Before the flower bloomed, it took root.
Before it took root, it was broken.
And before it was broken…
…it was accepted by the soil.
Does love transform?
Does love renew?
Does love grow?
Does love open us up?
Love is powerful because it opens itself up, accepting the seed into its environment, welcoming it to stay, telling it that it belongs.
It wraps its arms around the imperfect, ugly, small little seed, and does nothing else but allow time to pass. It accepts the seed exactly as it is, allowing the seed into its chambers, under its skin, and into its heart.
Love—before anything—accepts everything exactly as it is.
Eventually people will walk by the fields, amazed at the spring time flowers. The bees will become seduced by their color. Lovers will pick roses for their beloved. Creation will marvel at these little miracles, often unaware that what they are witnessing is the magical power of acceptance, sprinkled with time. That the real miracle happened sometime ago, in the dark, in the cold, where dirt opened itself up, and let a stranger stay a while.
Yes, creation marvels at the flower, for it once grew roots, it once was broken, but first…first it was accepted…
…over and over, moment by moment.
For what else is love other than acceptance repeating itself each second?
Love is acceptance on repeat…
And this is what we can do to each other.
In a way, we each are seeds, and we each are soil. We can help each other bloom, not because the soil has the magic, no, it simple honors the magic inside the seed and gives it some time.
Every one of us will and shall bloom.
But we can become better soil.
A soil that trusts the outcome, the process—the magic inside the other.
The soil accepts the seed, for it knows what the seed can and will do…with time.
We can be better soil.
Soil that doesn’t focus on color, on roots, on breaking the seed, no, for the seed breaks forth from the inside. The soil doesn’t crush, it covers, surrounds and waters, and waits, waits, waits.
The soil is patient, and merely does what soil does…accept the seed.
And this is important: how can love be so patient, so trusting? Because of it’s strength of character? It’s determination to not give up? It’s ability to forgive?
Because it knows what’s within us.
It knows who we are: offsprings of the divine that carry the spark, the fire of eternity in our hearts. It knows that it itself is in you.
Love is patient for it sees itself in the other.
The soil isn’t confused about you, crossing its fingers, hoping, wishing, praying that you’ll blossom. It knows you will. So patience isn’t even an option. Like a good farmer who plants and waits out the snow, love sits with you full of calm and peace, knowing that within time you will sprout your wings.
No, love isn’t even patient. It simply knows and trusts, and it’s only prayer is a smile, as it pictures the day you take your first steps.
We can be better soil.
And maybe this is why soil and soul are so similar.
Maybe this is why the kingdom of heaven is likened to a farmer sowing seed.
Maybe that parable is not about us being the seed in that story, but we are the soil.
Maybe the parable is giving us a picture of how our hearts can be hard and dry, how we can pluck out seeds too soon, not give seeds time to take root by rushing their growth process before someone’s ready (out of season), and how, perhaps, if the soil is soft and patient and accepting, the seeds will produce their hundred fold.
Perhaps the kingdom is within and the soil is our hearts.
Perhaps we can be better soil for each other.
Before the flower blooms, it takes root.
Before it takes root, it is broken.
Before it is broken, it is accepted.
This law, before applied externally, must be done internally.
We must become our own good soil that learns how to wrap its arms wide around who we are and accept us, perfectly, patiently, allowing us time.
Be patient with yourself.
Be good soil to you.
Give yourself time.
Lighten your burden.
You are ok.
You are loved, for you are love.
When it’s dark, don’t rush. For the mysteries of God occur in the secret, in those places neglected by the winter sun.
When it’s dark, don’t panic. Just sit, and wait, and know your time is coming soon. There’s nothing you need to do. The sun will return, the water and darkness will work together to bring about your glory.
When it’s dark, it’s supposed to be. Know this and be calm, be still, and know that you are being transformed in secret, and all life asks you to do is go to sleep and keep waiting.
For love, before anything, accepts. For that is all love is: acceptance on repeat.
So be good soil, to others, and most importantly—to yourself.