Forever Becoming

I’m not anyone else.

Forever becoming.

Tending the gardens.

We each have our own unique set of experiences. We have our garden where we take root in the soil given to us, in the location given to us, with the struggles given to us. We have each traveled an imperfect, challenging journey that brought us to this current moment.

We each have our own unique stories to tell. In a journal from two years ago, I wrote these words. I’m not anyone else. It was a journal about my identity as a writer, as a teacher, as a coach, and as a chaplain. This is my journey, my experience, and my story. Each of us has a story that only we can tell. And that’s the point. Those were the words that followed.

I love to hear people tell their stories. Not everyone is a talented storyteller, but everyone has a fascinating journey we can share and learn from. None of us is anyone else; we are all uniquely ourselves. Our job is not to determine where the seed of our lives fell and took root. Our job is to grow and bear fruit. To have faith, hope, and love exactly where we are and exactly who we are. May we grow. May we bear fruit.

We are forever becoming, forever transforming, and forever renewing. We must forever take time to pause, breathe, and smile because this is all a gift. This life and this world that surrounds us is always changing. It’s not through yet. It’s not finished yet. And neither are we. And neither are those around us. May we be patient, nurturing gardeners and stewards of these lives we’ve been given. You are a gift, as am I. May we remember the great value we can add to the lives of others and the many opportunities to respond to the moments that surround us. May we choose to respond to Life’s many gifts.

This is the first year I’ve ever seriously tried to raise a garden. I’ve tinkered with the idea a few times, but never with a strong plan and intention. This year, my approach and my mindset were different. I entered this season of gardening with “stacking” in mind.

This was not simply a season of growing plants and food; I was also growing my tennis program and my writing practice. I had already been “tending the gardens” of coaching and writing, but I liked the idea of stacking these visceral areas of growth with the visual growth I could physically see.

When I’m in the coaching season or the middle of a writing season, it is challenging to see day-to-day growth. Connecting that growth to these plants makes it easier to pause, reflect, and appreciate how far we’ve come. It is a gift to tend the gardens in our lives. As we participate in life, we must appreciate and celebrate the growth process.