A Word of Comfort in Times of Struggle
By Z Zoccolante
(Listen to the audio of this wonderful blog in the blue box below!)

If you’re in a time of crisis or trauma, it’s probably not your first, and it won’t be your last. But when we’re in the hurricane, and our lives feel pulled at the seams, we might feel as though the storm will never end – that the pain will engulf us, or that the world will never again be bright.

There are various kinds of trauma and crisis, from job loss, careers not panning out as hoped, financial stress, medical bills, family illness or death, or relationship issues. There are also transition periods like moving homes, changing careers, or pregnancy. Each of these holds a level of stress, which our bodies, minds, and spirits must weather like a storm.

A friend of mine who’s dealing with the loss of a parent, told me that she finds herself angry at strangers, because, ‘How dare they be happy when her parent is dead and the world feels empty.’

Physical death is a 100% certainty for all of us. But what about the dead seasons of our lives, where the things we’ve grown are now dying like leaves on a vine.

This week, I thought about plants and green grass. I though about the jacaranda trees in my neighborhood that have come full bloom, shedding the last remnants of their purple buds on the concrete sidewalks.

I thought about how nothing stays the same and how that can bring both sorrow and joy. I thought about trees and how growth can be born from a metaphorical death.

A friend told me this true story, which I’ll call . . .

THE TALE OF THE WITHERED VINE

A friend of mine wanted to grow a goji berry tree for her husband, so she got some cuttings and potted them, tended to them, and watered them religiously for weeks.

Finally, after all this effort she had to admit to herself that the plant was dead. The stalk was dried and every leaf was curled brown. She held a handful of dead leaves as proof that nothing could be done.

She bent over beginning to unearth the plant to pluck it from the soil, and it was then that she saw a bright, green bulb of growth protruding from the root. So she examined the plant further pulling off the dead, brown leaves along the stem.

To her surprise, she found that under the dead leaves were little, green shoots of growth. They’d been hidden and covered by the appearance of death.

By all measures the plant had the looked hopelessly dead, but it had been growing in secret.

She removed all the dead leaves, instead of unearthing the plant, and continued to water it. A week later, the stalk was a rich color and every leaf on the vine bloomed green from top to bottom.

Yes, this transformation happened in one week. 

*

What I realized from my friends story was that often we think that something, in this season of our life, is dead. We often think that a trauma or crisis will deaden our lives, like handfuls of brown leaves. We think that we should uproot it and cut our losses. But what we might not see, is that underneath, in a secret, quiet place, there’s something new growing.

Beneath the hurricane and the storm, the tears, fear, and uncertainty, new life is being built.

Sometimes we can throw out people, things, or memories that we think have died or are beyond repair.

One of the wisest things someone ever told me when I was in the process of recovering and going through a difficult time in my marriage, was, “Have you done everything you can possibly do?”

I remember her sentence hitting me, because no, I hadn’t. I’d been so focused on my pain and confusion that I hadn’t looked at the big picture of what could be.

Underneath the brown leaves of this season of your life, green new shoots can grow. New life can flourish. God can do amazing and wonderful things.

In this stormy season of your life, remember the goji plant. Remember that all things can be an opportunity for your beautiful growth. With a loving heart, do everything you can possibly do. Clear yourself of anger and self-pity. Feel your feelings and move through them instead of allowing them to get stuck and stagnate. Enlist your support team.

And most importantly, lean into God. Trust that His plans are meant to prosper you and not to harm you. Be thankful. Sing and Dance. Even in the midst of your storm you are growing. Even in the storm, you are sprouting clean, green shoots in preparation for your life to flourish.

With Love,
Z :)