Blooming

The soil is where the roots go deep enough to hold the weight of what’s coming.

Dear Reader,

This morning, on my way to work, I sat by the window of the bus and let my thoughts wander. We passed by rows of little corner shops, some bursting with goods, shelves full and colourful, ready for customers. Others were half-empty, still being stocked, not quite ready for business.

Somewhere between one street and the next, I found myself thinking about blooming seasons, those seasons when we feel hidden, slow, or unfinished.

There was a time not too long ago when I wanted everything to happen quickly, the prayers answered, the opportunities released, the healing I was desperate for. I wanted to skip the waiting season entirely and land right in the celebration, like those shops already full and flourishing.

But friend, here is what God has been gently teaching me: blooming takes time.

Sometimes He hides us in the soil. And though it feels dark and slow there, that’s where the most important work is happening. The soil is where the roots go deep enough to hold the weight of what’s coming.

When I look back now, I see the wisdom in His slowness. If God had opened certain doors for me too early, I would not have been ready to carry the responsibility that came with them. If He had given me the healing I begged for overnight, I might have missed the lessons that grew my character and taught me to trust Him.

I am learning that there is mercy in the waiting.

Zechariah 4:10 says, “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.” Isn’t that beautiful? God rejoices over beginnings. Over sprouts. Over the first steps. Over the tiny, hidden progress no one else may even notice.

So I’m learning to celebrate every little sprout in my own life, the quiet ways I am growing, the small victories that no one claps for but heaven sees. I’m learning to love the slow bloom. To trust that this exact pace is chosen for me by the One who knows me best.

My gentlest reader, your growth feels painfully slow right now. Maybe you’re tired of waiting, tired of wondering when the “real life” will start. Can I whisper something to your heart today? Slow growth is still growth. You are still moving forward, even if it feels like nothing is changing.

One day, you will look back and see that even this hidden, quiet season was holy. Even this was a part of the miracle.

So today, celebrate a sprout, whatever that looks like for you. Maybe it’s a single answered prayer, a quiet moment of peace, a habit you didn’t give up on, a step you finally dared to take. These are all signs of life. And they matter.

I’m cheering for you as you bloom at your God-chosen pace.

Gratefully blooming,
Creative Temi