Sometimes the most profound lessons are the easiest to overlook. Take a tomato plant, for instance. Just to the right of my computer keyboard sits a two piece porcelain tea cup and saucer-like flower pot. It's large, its heavy and it was chosen as the home for a plant I received as a gift last fall. It's filled with dirt taken from our backyard compost bin.
Over the past few months I've tried to nurture the azalea while all but ignoring the green slip of something that emerged from the same soil. I applied water, occasional fertilizer and kept it exposed to our scanty winter sunlight. It didn't work: the plant bloomed its last, closed its leaves in one droopy farewell and left for the great "yard waste" pile at the local recycling depot. I added Empty Dirt and Wash Flower Pot to my to-do list.
When I finally got around to dealing with the dirt I suddenly realized that the piece of green that had emerged unbidden was actually a tomato plant. Seeds from some former salad sprouted and volunteered to become what is now a large, nearly ready to bloom, bearer of future nourishment. It would have been so easy to have thrown it out with the deceased azalea but I am grateful I didn't; just think of what I would have missed.
I couldn't help but think of Robbie Burns: the best laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley. In other words, life's azaleas die but whether or not we recognize them, tomatoes emerge to take their place.
"Many, O Lord my God, are the wonderful works which You have done, and Your thoughts toward us; no one can compare with You! If I should declare and speak of them, they are too many to be numbered." Psalm 40:5 - Amplified Version
