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<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nA neighbor friend brought me three sandwich bags filled with sunflower seeds that she had collected from her own garden. She had gathered seeds from six-foot tall giants with round pie-sized centers, medium and small varieties that both grow in clusters. She told me that she wanted me to plant them throughout my front yard so that she could look over and see all kinds of happy yellow sunflowers smiling back at her. Her and I share the same love language, flowers and all things green. We both come alive with expectancy when we have our hands in the dirt, sowing seeds and nurturing life. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
For me, my garden is a sacred space. It\u2019s a place that I find true rest and I hear God\u2019s voice most clearly. The worries and complexities of this world fall away. Everything becomes quiet and much simpler and I begin to notice the smallest of sights, sounds and wonders. It is the place where all the chaos inside me finds order and stillness and I am able to pour my heart out to Jesus. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
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<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nAs I began to sow these tiny seeds that inside each shell there is the potential for bright and glorious beauty breaking and bursting forth, I talked with Jesus. Telling Him all about my hopes and worries for those I love. For the heartbreak and brokenness that I see all around. For the great losses and hardships that so many I love have endured. For dreams and desires that have not yet sprouted. For the waiting and the wondering if the wandering and lost will ever return home.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I held each tiny wonder in my hands tucking them gently two by two into the earth. As I held and tucked in each pair, I poured out my breaking heart and tears fell. In sowing these seeds, in planting these prayers and watering them with my own tears, this labor of love brings with it great expectancy yet it is also riddled with doubt. What if nothing comes from this futile sowing, from my small meager prayers? <\/p>\n\n\n\n
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<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\nEven so, I remind myself that a flower must die, a seed must fall, and be buried in the dark ground, waiting for just the right moment. When the elements are ideal it then breaks open and emerges into something beautiful and much bigger than it\u2019s seed. The miracle of new life beginning again. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I surrender these tiny seeds, my small meager prayers into the hands of my loving Father. I will wait with confident hope-filled expectancy, knowing that I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. (Psalms 27:13-14 NIV) Each sunflower seed I sow, each prayer I plant, packed with the power and potential to grow into a living, tangible reminder that His goodness and mercy is new every morning. (Lamentations 3:22-24 NIV) Each bright bloom that miraculously emerges and grows strong will be a glimmer of His radiant love shining down on me. (Numbers 6:24-26 NIV)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n\u201cThose who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy. Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them.\u201d Psalms 126:5-6 NIV
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A neighbor friend brought me three sandwich bags filled with sunflower seeds that she had collected from her own garden. She had gathered seeds from six-foot tall giants with round pie-sized centers, medium and small varieties that both grow in clusters.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":2243,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"footnotes":"","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.magnoliaheart.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/06\/s11.jpg?fit=480%2C640&ssl=1","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2YMk4-Aa","jetpack-related-posts":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magnoliaheart.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2242"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magnoliaheart.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magnoliaheart.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magnoliaheart.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magnoliaheart.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2242"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.magnoliaheart.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2242\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2254,"href":"https:\/\/www.magnoliaheart.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2242\/revisions\/2254"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magnoliaheart.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2243"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magnoliaheart.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2242"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magnoliaheart.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2242"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magnoliaheart.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2242"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}