I had a pot, a pretty little pot.

I filled it with good soil, rich in minerals, fertilizer, and lots of organic nutrients.

I planted a seedling of my dream in that pot.

It took rooted and grew, a little.  Then withered.

‘Something must have been wrong with that plant.’ I thought.  ‘Can’t be the soil!’

I pulled out the plant and tried a different kind.  Same story.  It grew a while, this time larger.  But didn’t bear fruit before it, too, dried up and died.

Not to be discouraged, I researched on-line ‘Best plants to grow in a pot’.  There were all sorts of suggestions and stories of how so-in-so, who shared the same dream I held close to my heart, had found success with this kind of plant or that.  I selected the one with the most likes and tried that.  This time, it bore fruit!  It grew and grew and started to flower.  I was excited.

But then, something got to it.  And it too withered.  I was beginning to feel a bit discouraged.

Not one to give up easily, I prayed to God.  And tried again.  Following yet another suggestion.  I was not willing to abandon my dream. After all, if I try hard enough and use the best materials and practices, surely I can make it happen!

Each time I tried something new, the results were the same – a variation of my one-flower plant.  And then it died.

Successive plantings produced pitiful little plants.

And these shoots that seemed to take root ended up looking worse and worse.  I began to feel embarrassed that I had told anyone about my dream.  They would ask me from time to time about it.  And I would explain my latest attempt.  And they would listen with sympathy and interest and pat my back and encourage me to keep trying.  “You’re doing all the right things!  And your soil is so good,” they would exclaim.

Then one day, before I even got to plant the new seedling I had purchased, it died.  Yes! This different variety, this potential little wisp of a potential little flowering plant, actually withered and died in the car, on the way home. Even before I could transplant it into my good soil.

‘Father, what are you telling me?’  No, answer.

It seemed that the Father was closing this door.  If I’m honest, I can look back and see how He had begun to push the door to my dream shut, moving it on its hinges.  I had ignored that, persevering to the day, not wanting to abandon my dream.

But now I could see, that my pretty little pot with its good soil was not going to accept any plant I placed in it.  For reasons unknown to me, but totally in the sovereign and good will of my Father.

Once home, I threw the plant in the garbage.  And shifted my focus away from my pretty little pot. I turned to God’s Word and comforted myself.  It happened that the appointed reading for that day was in 2 Chronicles about King Jehosophat and his desperate situation.  His humble and transparent honesty encouraged me as he knelt and prayed. Here was a king in front of his people admitting his strong need for wisdom, direction, and help in the face of an approaching enemy:

2 Chron 20:12 “……We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.”

So, I took my pot and emptied out that fine, rich, organic soil.  And set it empty, on a shelf in the sunroom.  And I prayed:

“Father, here’s my pot.  Please fill it with what YOU want.  And if it be Your will to keep my pretty little pot empty, then blessed be Your name.  After all, You are the One who owns this pot. And I, as well, I belong to You.  In fact, right now, I yield both me and my pretty little pot to You.  Have your way, dear God. Amen!”

Amen.