Good Things Still Grow Here

Flowers have always been one of my greatest simple joys. They have always felt like the exclamation point on our home, and reminded me that good things grow here.

A few months ago, I started to notice a pattern emerge. I would buy them, bring them home, and set them in a glass of water in the sink until they died. I couldn’t find the energy to tend to them.

These flowers were such a perfectly painful reflection of my insides. They were the evidence of just how bad things had gotten. Something I had refused to concede on my own.

Today, I bought flowers. I trimmed them, and arranged them. And then I placed that symbolic exclamation point in the center of my dining room table. It was a gesture that said, I am Alive. And good things still grow here.

But they were always growing. Even when I couldn’t see them. The flowers are just a byproduct of the seeds that were rooting and taking shape during that dark time.

Man, life is messy. But also really good.