Rough Around the Edges

Most wouldn’t believe me when I say this, but I can be rough around the edges. My brain is trained to be rigid. Working in the medical field has taught me that there is little room for error. Your yes has to be yes and your no has to be no. You can’t always afford for there to be a gray area when patient’s lives are on the line.

Some mornings consisted of checking the temperatures in the same places around the laboratory at the same time daily. Or tasks included running control samples each time you run a test knowing you’re going to follow the same precise steps as always. Rigidity. Even now that I work in a medical school laboratory, I can do the same tasks on a weekly/quarterly base and not tire out. I’m used to consistency. Where I sometimes struggle, is change.

(If you really know me that sounds contradictory because I am also a very spontaneous person, but change that I can control the variables of, i.e. an experiment, feels different and much more familiar than change as in the unpredictable ebbs and flows of life.)

Gardening often inspires me.

In-store, Rudbeckia (Black-Eyed Susan) can get pretty pricey. In 2023, when I had plants stolen from me, (read about that here) this plant was one of my losses. It hurt. I’ve craved growing them since. I found it growing wild in ditches and overgrown fields last year. Places that make you think, “I bet there’s snakes.” Places you need boots and tools for. When I harvested it last year, I didn’t forage it well. I didn’t pull from the root and I immediately had it in the sun. My soil wasn’t good either so the plant struggled, choked, and died after making one more flower.

📸: Rudbeckia spp. growing in the wild.

The last few days, I harvested some for me and shared the rest. Repotted, my mom couldn’t even tell they were foraged until she felt the leaves. “Why do they feel so rough?” she asked. I retorted, “they came from some rough places.” Even the flowers themselves were sturdy as much as they were pretty.

Sometimes God allows us to grow in tough places to develop us. Our stems need the test of wind to withstand storms. We need wisdom down in our roots. We need flowers that are pretty with a purpose. But in due time, he takes us away and restores us. He hides us for a season, but then, the next thing you know, we’re put on full display. When He does, there’s very little residue from before. We won't always look like our past.

Enjoy the seasons of being hidden and developed. Enjoy the consistency it brings even in times it’s uncomfortable. Don’t envy other folks' flowers, you don’t know how and for how long they’ve been nurtured or choose to nurture themselves. You don’t know the time they invested to blossom or the risks taken.

Exposure to nature can kill. You need to be properly rooted and adjusted to the conditions of the environment before God can fully use you. Being used prematurely may very well cause you to wither away…🥀 much like my plants do sometimes when being put in full sun with newly transplanted roots.

Know that change is coming. Be encouraged. Know that change can be good. But change is better when you are prepared mentally and physically. Use the times of being hidden to be consistent in things that nurture you. Pray that when it’s time for you to be moved and put on display for the world, that your roots are nourished and ready to take up new spaces.

📸: Hibiscus spp. I foraged.