The garden was a mess. We had planted vegetables with so much hope— imagining the harvest, the fresh meals, the joy of gathering what we grew. But nothing seemed to be coming up. A while passed, and instead of a thriving garden, all I saw were weeds. I figured everything died, so I went out to dig and replant things. As I started clearing the weeds, I found our little pepper plant— green, strong, and still growing. I just couldn’t see it through all the overgrowth. And right there, in the dirt and weeds, the Lord reminded me of something: just because I can’t see growth doesn’t mean it isn’t happening.
There are seasons in life where our hearts feel dry. When reading the Bible feels like a chore, when prayers feel unanswered, when everything around us looks like failure or silence. I’ve walked through those days— and honestly, I’ve walked through them as a mother, a homemaker, a believer trying to juggle it all while barely finding time to finish a cup of coffee, let alone have a deep ‘quiet time’. But Scripture shows us that these seasons aren’t foreign to God. David wrote in Psalm 63:1 “Oh God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” If you’ve felt like that— spiritually parched— you’re not alone. And you’re not forgotten.
I didn’t know my pepper plant was there because it had been overtaken by weeds. It was still growing, still alive, but hidden from sight. That hit home. Sometimes, the Lord is growing something in us, but the clutter— worry, business, doubt, distractions— can cloud it. I’ve found myself there: feeling like a failure because I haven’t ‘produced fruit,’ when in reality, God was still tending my heart. The roots were deepening, even if the growth wasn’t obvious. In John 15:2, Jesus says “Every branch in me that does not bear fruit He takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” Pruning isn’t fun. Pulling weeds is hard. But sometimes, it’s in the clearing that we finally see what God has been growing all along.
God speaks to us through His Word— the Bible— living and active, reminding us of truth just when we need it. 1 Kings 19 tells the story of Elijah, who expected to hear from God in wind, earthquake, or fire. But the Lord wasn’t in any of those. Instead, He spoke in a gentle whisper— a stillness. A reminder that God works quietly. Faithfully. I’ve experienced this in motherhood— those moments when I’m overwhelmed, and suddenly a verse I read weeks ago comes to mind. Or when I open my Bible for just a little while during nap time and find the exact encouragement I needed. That’s not a coincidence. That’s the Spirit working through the Word— reminding us, anchoring us, whispering truth into the noise of our days.
When life feels dry, when the weeds seem bigger than the fruit, when you can’t see what God is doing— keep tending. Keep showing up. Keep reading Scriptures, even if it’s just one verse at a time. Keeping praying, even if it’s just a sigh of “Help me Lord.” Keep serving your family, your church, your people— even when you’re tired. Galatians 6:9 encourages us: “Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” The harvest will come. Maybe not in the way we expect. Maybe not when we think. But God is always faithful.
If your life right now feels more like a weed- choked garden than a flourishing field, take heart. The growth may be hidden, but it’s there. The Word planted in your heart months ago might rise up tomorrow with exactly the strength you need. Your prayers aren’t lost in the dirt— they’re watering roots. God isn’t far away, He’s near. Not in a booming voice or a blazing fire— but in the quiet, in the steady, in the Word. And He’s whispering comfort through the weeds.
Lord,
Thank You for being near, even when my heart feels dry and my spirit weary. Help me to trust that You are working beneath the surface, even when I can’t see the fruit. Pull the weeds in my life— those distractions, doubts, and discouragements— that keep me from seeing Your goodness. Plant Your Word deep in my heart, and let it take root. Remind me, even in the quiet, that You are faithful. Give me strength to keep tending, even when it feels hard. Let me be still and know that You are God.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen
