“Eh! Why did you tell him that?” I asked, indignant.
I had overheard the hubs praying with my four-year-old son for his dead plant. I looked at the pot - the soil was as dry as the Sahara, the plant’s leaves and stem shrivelled up.
Yup, our touch-me-not plant died under our neglectful watch. Another one bites the dust.
Afraid of disappointing my boy, I said, “E, if your plant comes alive again, it will be a miracle. It’s really dead, ok?”
Father and son had enough faith to water it anyway.
About a week later, I glanced at the pot and my heart skipped a beat.
There, beside the wiry brown stem was a tiny seedling.
We had sown the seeds six months earlier, what made it want to bloom and emerge now?
Only the divine could have made the supernatural occur within the natural.
I felt a whisper in my heart... if only you have faith as small as a seed...
“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”