When I was young a seed of belief was planted in fertile soil and my walk with The Lord began.
For many years I grew nicely. Some years with gusto, others slowly but surely. At times my growth seemed stunted, but my maker fed me and pruned me until I fit appropriately in the pot I was planted in.
My days took turns leaving me basking in the sun for some and waiting to dry out from a rain on another. A few times I was tipped over, dirt spilling out and exposing my roots, but the father set me upright and placed me firmly back in my pot.
After periods of extensive growth I would be moved into a new larger pot, giving my roots room to spread. For a time after these moves I wouldn't grow but instead rested and accepted the nurturing that came from the great physicians hands to heal the breaks and cuts I had obtained during my upheaval.
Each repotting proved painful but I am thankful. Without it my roots would have become bound and begin to rot. Eventually I would have died.
Sometimes I would be moved to a completely new location, one that would now be found more suitable for me. During the time of healing and adjustment I longed for the place I used to be and found fear in my new surroundings. With his love, the fear would subside and eventually be gone, leaving in its place a stronger deeper root system.
Soon after the repotting I would start to grow again, each time fuller and with more beauty. His grace sufficient to see me through, making me stronger and preparing me for future adaptions.
Thank you Lord for nurturing, pruning, and repotting me through your word. Like a potted plant my faith has grown.
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