My last post was April 9. Could it be May already?
The end of April is a “port of entry/exit” for our base. What that means is this is the time when some staff go and other some on. Cody will be leaving from his outreach location with the Discipleship Training School, and I had the pleasure of sending Lauren on her way last weekend. Both of them will be in a transition time, discerning the next step in their lives. Cody will be with International House of Prayer in Israel. Lauren is on a short sabbatical in England.
We are also receiving a new staff member, Philip, who will be living in the Grover Beach.
Along with the port of entry, we will be having our “Big Ops” meeting, which is where we all come together, give our reports for each department, and “change seats on the bus”…which means we change which departments we are a part of, which ones we facilitate and so on. I am currently facilitating four of the five departments I am a part of, and while I enjoy being involved with each of these departments, I don’t feel that I need to facilitate everything. So please pray that the Lord directs me on how to commit my time over the next six months.
Finally, in two weeks (May 12) we will be having the “16th Street Barbecue” to build community on our street and get to know our neighbors better.
What does all this have to do with playing in the dirt? I have been re-potting rescued plants today. By the time I find them they have been sent from Trader Joe’s to the local food bank, where they will either die or be given away for free. Most of them are wilty from being root bound, so I set them in the kitchen until I can attend to them. One pot of herbs has been there a couple weeks because I needed to buy a bigger pot for it. Several of the plants died, but a few were salvageable. I have noticed, however, that every time I look at them they are swimming in water. I think a roommate or a friend has taken it upon themselves to rescue the plants by drowning. They are so root bound, however, that the water doesn’t even go through the pot. It just sits there. Convicted of my plant neglect, I purchased a larger pot for them today and freed them from their confined little marsh. At the base of the lavender I found nearly a half inch of tangled, rotting roots. The poor thing…my friend kept watering and watering it when what it really needed was soil and space.
And then I think of all the transplanting that is going on around me…people moving in and out of the base, people moving around with responsibilities within the base. It reminds me that sometimes the most obvious solution is not the one needed, and might even be harmful without the proper care. I pray that we all find our feet in good, spacious soil with room to grow.
Raindrops in the Ocean 