I am excited when it starts to rain…
My hopes are high just thinking of the blooming potential for my flowers.
“Hmph…Ahh” I breathe deeply. “God has sent rain to quench the thirst of my stagnant, stubborn plants” I assure myself.
Fantasizing about the massive tree of my flower to come, arouses me every time my plant is watered.
The rain eventually stops.
I am NOT satisfied with the amount of water showered from the sky, so I quickly grab my watering can to supplement for the shortage of H2O that the clouds couldn’t squeeze out.
I am content…
….for a while; but then my mind rapidly sorts through questions at its usual panic rate. Perhaps its my unapologetic compulsive obsession with my plants progress. It’s been 5 whole years since I’ve seen any sprout factor out of these things. It concerns me. My thoughts starts it usual marathon:
Will these things ever grow? What else is there that I can possibly to do? Am I doing something wrong? This is taking soooo long! For God sake, what type of water does this thing want; magical precipitation from the Atlantis seas?
I’ve done all that I can do; I’ve become exhausted.
The antagonizing comments I’ve heard from my mother, my friends and the shrieking laughter of dismay from strangers evaded the “thought race” in my mind.
My face starts to heat up and my nostrils start to feel inflamed. I swallow my boiling cry deeply.
Again I assure myself. These flowers will grow. My flowers will grow…no how matter artificial they may be.
“I will be the one that does the impossible; to change the inevitable.” I determined.
In the mean time, I will dwell in the beauty of the process.
One day, I so desperately hope, growth will come…