A Dormant Season

I’ve said before that Eric and I will never be known as “green thumb” people. However, we do have a little houseplant that’s been with us now for about 7 years. It’s a shamrock plant, but if you’re scientific, you call it an oxalis houseplant. It was a housewarming gift for us when we moved into a new home (a home that we no longer live in but loved while we did). It was from a precious friend who, I think, knew we needed to begin the journey of becoming plant parents.

Often, we’ve stood around it in wonder that we’ve kept it alive for seven years. Other plants haven’t lasted seven months with us, so this one is special. In some ways, it has become a part of our family. I’ve been found talking to it in baby talk. It reminds us of the angels in Heaven; when the sun rises, its leaves rise up like that of angels giving praise and when the sun goes down, its leaves bow down as if it is praying. Not wanting others to miss out on its cuteness, we’ve propagated it— providing portions of it to friends and watching how it continues to flourish in the giving. Amid our busy lives, we cherish the quietness of it. It doesn’t talk back at us when it doesn’t get its way. It doesn’t argue about what’s for dinner. It doesn’t pout when we don’t give it attention. Its not mad at us that we haven’t given it a name! It’s just calm and relaxed.

Recently though, we thought we were about to lose this precious thing. What had once been nearly 50 stems had dwindled down to only two little stems. Two stems in the middle of barrenness. We questioned if we weren’t giving it enough water? Or were we giving it too much water? Too much sun, or not enough sun? Why now, after seven good years, was this plant no longer growing like it had in the past? All of this despite the care we (as in Eric) had given it? I honestly thought it’s time with us was over and we would be saying goodbye as we threw it in the trash. Alas, Eric said no, “there’s still life in there. We just need to figure out how to get it out.”

So, what do you do when you have plant questions but no plant knowledge? You ask your co-worker friend who knows all the things about horticulture. I showed her a picture of our little plant and she knew exactly what it was and what was wrong. She said, “Your oxalis is in a dormant season and is resting. You may want to repot it though. All the roots need to be untangled and loosened up. There’s a lot going on in the dirt that you don’t see.”

She sent me and article about it that explained it this way: Most of the time, when a shamrock plant appears to be dying, it is actually just in need of an off-season, or a time in which it can rest. It grows from a bulb and is a perennial, so if it is dying at the end of a growing season, simply cut off the dying or dead portions and wait for the new growing season to start.

This resonated with me in the deepest way. I would not have known how to explain a season like this in a personal way if not for learning about it when caring for this plant.

Dormant seasons. I’m positive we’ve all felt a time when God seemed out of reach. Hello silent treatment. The dreams we’ve daydreamed about, and the visions we’ve cast in the pages of our journals seem lifeless. God’s watering can feels all but empty. No growth happening here.

I found in the book of Hosea a short, eleven-word verse that brought me much comfort. Grab your planting-shovel and dig with me. It’s found in the thirteenth-chapter, verse five...”I knew you in the wilderness, in the land of drought.”

Hosea is a book about God’s unconditional love and complete forgiveness explained through a marriage between Hosea and his wife Gomer. Gomer is the picture of Israel’s unfaithfulness and Hosea is depicted as God’s love and forgiveness.

God had been with Israel the whole time, so He knew them! In their wilderness, in their moments of drought, He never left them. In their dormant season, He was there. Even when they talked back, He didn’t leave. Even when they argued about what’s for dinner, He stayed. Even when they had eyes for other gods, He kept that stink eye on them. My point is, even if it really was a facial expression like stink eye, He didn’t leave them. I found comfort in that little verse because it reminded me that He is with me, and He knows ME. Not just in my good moments worthy of celebration, but also in my not good moments. He is still holding me up. He never wants to throw me away just because I’m dormant! He doesn’t get embarrassed and embark on new company. He doesn’t get disappointed and disappear. He doesn’t get on His high horse and high tail it out of here.

He stays. He is willing to wrap His arms around me and my wrapped-up world. He stays because He knows He can loosen the grip of all the emotional roots that have gotten all twisted up. He says, “Come to me all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Why would He say come and then leave? The answer is: He won’t. He is just giving you rest. He stays because He knows a growing season is coming. We just need to be willing to submit to the process.

I’m willing Jesus, my Hope and Stay.

We (as in Eric) submitted to the process of repotting our plant. We got new soil for it, bought a new a pot with drain holes, and Eric loosened up the roots. You know what? Within a couple of months, it’s now bigger and greener than it’s ever been, with nearly 70 stems. It’s in a new beautiful growing season.