On your path to motherhood some days will be easy. They will be sun-filled and rain-free. They will be days when you can see all that is right in the world, cherish all that is right in your life.
Yet other days will be darker. They will be harder to passage through. They will be the days when it’s hard to remember that the pain isn’t always so raw, the hurt not always so deep.
Those are the days when we must remember the tiny green sprigs.
When spring first sprung here on the east coast I spent the weekend planting flowers: reds and yellows and oranges and purples, my favorite hues.
Some of those flowers were in an area that just didn’t get much water. And so, undoubtedly I forgot to water them a time or two and they were a brown crumbly mess–kind of like our hearts feel on those hard days. I was certain that they should just be tossed. But something told me to not give up so easily on their faded blooms.
And after weeks soaking in water, what do you know; they sprouted tiny, tender green leaves.
We are not so different from the plants mama nature blossoms to fill our world with vibrancy. We are not so different at all.
Sometimes life reminds us around every corner that we turn that theirs is not ours, and that the dessert of a wilted plant is the desert of our wilted womb.
When those days come we can throw them out. We can toss our joy into the compost bin and we can sulk in the breaking branches of our strong wills.
Or, we can plant ourselves in cool, soft, nurturing water and wait for our rebirth.
Take a dip into the pond of hope on those hopeless days. I promise that when you re-emerge the sun will be out again and your tattered heart will be softening to open to the sprouts of new promises for tomorrow.