Some years ago I bought several lovely blue and white pots for growing small indoor plants. They were well made with glazed finish.
As time went on they had to be put outside where they were watered with bore water that left them tinged all over with a horrid brown tinge. Also they inevitably built up lots of dirt encrusted areas that ordinary cleaning could not shift.
After twenty years they were in disaster mode and as I looked them over one by one, I felt they could never, ever be restored to anything remotely like their true beauty.
But ever hopeful, I started scrubbing….and scrubbing….and scrubbing. I used hot water, loads of soapy stuff, some fierce cleaning fluid that could be a disaster, and horrible steel scrubbing pads. I scrubbed until my fingers were painful and near to bleeding and I had to put gloves on for protection.
I scrubbed and soaked, scrubbed and soaked throughout the day and then began to see that a constant, harsh, particle-by-particle scrubbing was the only way to get results.
The pots began to respond and come back to their beautiful sheen. I rinsed them in clear water and my spirits lifted. After hours and hours of scrub-work, I could rejoice.
Then it was only if you lifted them to strong light and looked carefully, that you could see traces of the stains, one or two hair cracks on one lip, and a tiny speck chipped from another.
At the end of the day I asked myself what I had learned that was of any value after so much dedication.
Wasn’t it all really a waste of time? Could I not have spent my time more profitably writing those letters I was always promising to write? Could I not have made a few phone calls to let others know I was thinking of them? Could I not have cleaned out a seriously neglected cupboard?
My pots were ready now for growing flowers or bulbs, ready to be occupied with good soil and to grow and share all the beauty they could contain.
Then I read the lesson from them that I needed to learn. Listen.
My Saviour scrubbed me till He spilled blood for me, “one of the soldiers with a spear pierced his side, and forthwith came there out blood and water,” (John 19:34).
My Saviour soaked me in the Scriptures, “For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a dispenser of the thoughts and intents of the heart,” (Hebrews 4:12)
My Saviour rinsed me in clear water, “Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptised every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit,” (Acts 2:38)
My Saviour soaked in earth’s good soil to fill me with it, “For as Jonas was three days in the whale’s belly; so shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth,” (Matthew 12:40)
When I was ready, He let tiny flowers grow in His cleaned space, “For ye are bought with a price; therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s,” (1st Corinthians 2:20).
With deep appreciation, I placed the garden pots in a sheltered area and said softly, “thank you Lord, for the lesson of the garden pots.”
Elizabeth Price
(To access the entire “Pot Plants” mini-series, please click here.)