“Those boxwoods took twenty years to grow into a decent hedge,” my sister said and pointed to them lining one of her flower beds. We sat in her gliders, watching swallows swooping and diving in circles across the meadow, searching for nesting sites. My eyes moved beyond the meadow, out to the scrub oaks that stand guard at the property line. They too are slow growers, I thought. Taking their time to establish their roots so that they can weather the high winds and lashing rains that come in the winter.

I thought back to the decades of my growth, slowly learning to let go and to let God—learning to give my ego over to Him. “I’m not done, yet, God,” I said silently. “There is still so much to learn about love and grace.

“Slow growth is good growth,” God whispered in my ear.

My sister pointed to the flock of wild turkeys that had come into view in the meadow— a momma and her little chicks, proud poppa watching over them. I smiled, the babies were so cute, scratching about for food. My heart was full of joy, completely lost in the moment, watching them

“Your growth is right on time, Sparrow.”

I nodded, thankful for the reassurance that my slow and steady tortoise pace was pleasing to Him. “I’ll keep growing, with your help,” I whispered back.

 

 

 

 

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