Cultivate
We sipped coffee and nibbled the remaining crumbs of Panera scones and muffins as my eyes scanned the room. Each face around the conference table represented a particular aspect of caregiving: social workers, a life coach, therapists, and those who had been entrusted with the high hard calling of becoming caregivers for a family member.
On that particular morning, I sat at the table wearing two proverbial hats. One hat afforded by my role at CIFW — that of Chief Potential Officer, brainstorming and encouraging and fanning the flame of innovation that had been ignited years prior. The other hat, newly and unexpectedly acquired, was that of a caregiver. It was stiff and awkward and uncomfortable.
The purpose of the meeting? A focus group designed to help launch the Caregiver Institute for Wellbeing, a new nonprofit focused on supporting all aspects of caregiver health. A graduate of the 412 Fellowship had been acutely aware of the need, given her many years serving as a counselor for caregivers. As fodder for her 412 capstone project, she dusted off an earlier iteration of the initiative that she had drafted and tucked safely away in a closet. Fast forward three years — and the dream that had laid dormant is, in the Father’s perfect time, becoming a reality.
Through our work at CIFW, I had the great joy of walking alongside the Director for the past few years: listening to iterations of potential pathways and outcomes, encountering the joys and struggles that accompany launching an entrepreneurial endeavor, and witnessing the miracle of a long obedience to the Lord’s quiet, steady promptings.
We water and provide nourishment to seeds, containing skills and experiences and inspiration, that the Lord had planted years ago. We wait patiently for a glimpse of sprouts to emerge. Discipleship is a slow and mysterious work. Often we don’t get to see the fruit we hope to cultivate. Evidence appears after our time or out of our sight.
Yet that morning around the conference table, years of quiet cultivation had pushed through the soil — evidence that “equipping people to experience God and serve others through their daily work” is, indeed, contributing to human flourishing. I was certain years ago that the Caregiving Institute (even prior to being named) would be a blessing to many for generations to come. But given my new role as a caregiver, I am now the one benefiting from the good work being cultivated. Life is full of unexpected plot twists.
In your everyday work, the Master Gardener is using you to till soil or scatter seeds or water of fruit you won’t see until the greatest of banquets. And on rare occassion, you may surprised to find yourself in need of the very gift you had been given to nurture.
Be encouraged.
Your work is not in vain.
