The Plight of the Fern
15 As for man, his days are like grass, he
flourishes like a flower of the field; 16 the wind
blows over it and it is gone, and its place
remembers it no more. Psalm 103:15-16 (NIV)
15 As for man, his days are like grass, he
flourishes like a flower of the field; 16 the wind
blows over it and it is gone, and its place
remembers it no more. Psalm 103:15-16 (NIV)
There it was, hanging in plain view next to my front door: my once beautiful fern
was shriveled and brown and I was the culprit. Not such a terrible crime, perhaps,
but I was responsible for the plant's well-being and I had failed it miserably. I
stood, shoulders slumped and awash in guilt, and sadly took in the scattering of
withered leaves that littered the front steps as I thought about how this neglect had
come to pass.
I had purchased this fern because I wanted to save it from the poor conditions that
it was enduring. Most plants at that giant discount store look pretty good for a
few days after their arrival, but the growing conditions are inadequate and the care
is not skilled and inevitably they all look pretty dreadful within a couple of weeks.
The fern was a fresh arrival on the day I spotted it hanging in a crush of other
plants and, although it was scrawny, it showed promise. I paid a paltry $6.98 for
my little plant, which was about all it was worth, but I was sure that I could
nurture it into a fine specimen.
I lavished a great deal of attention on that little fern in the beginning. I replanted it
into a roomier pot, I placed it in a prime location and I fed and watered it
regularly. In response, it grew into a lovely, vigorous plant: a picture-perfect fern!
But then I began to take its health for granted and although I watered it regularly, I
fed it only when I had time in my busy schedule. My fern still looked great and I
didn't worry much about the diminished care I was giving it. Then the days grew
hotter, but I neglected to water the plant more frequently in response to the heat
because I was no longer paying much attention to it. My fern had become such
an accustomed sight that I rarely actually looked at it. Until it nearly died, that is.
As Christians, we are called to spread the Good News and bring others to Christ.
In response to that call, we enthusiastically launch one evangelism project after
another and we are thrilled when new faces are seen on Sunday mornings and
when membership classes fill quickly. We invite those new members to every
church event and we lavish them with attention. We make sure they get to know
others with similar interests in the congregation and we urge them to get involved.
Essentially, we re-pot them into our church, feed them generously on the Word
and place them where they will grow best.
But after a while, those new members are overshadowed by other, newer, faces in
the pews. Forgetting that our world is a treacherous place for all Christians, both
those new to faith and those who have spent a lifetime in Christ, we assume that
the newly-established members will be capable of managing their own faith walk
and that they will continue to grow in Christian maturity without as much attention
from us. Probably not. We are as fragile as ferns and we must continue to nurture
and feed each other constantly. As it says in Isaiah 37:27, "...¦they are like plants
in the field, like tender green shoots, like grass sprouting on the roof, scorched
before it grows up." It doesn't take long for an overlooked and under-cultivated
new member to start to wither and, yes, those old-time members need
nourishment as well. We are gardeners who are given the joyful responsibility of
the earthly care of our Father's most delicate and complicated creation - our fellow
man.
I noticed the condition of my poor fern just in time and I was able to nurse it
gradually back to health. Its recovery is an on-going process and I fear that the
plant's vigor will be affected for a long time. I plan to observe my fellow church
members with increased awareness of their often overlooked needs and "water"
them accordingly, as well. Take a look around you. How are your ferns?
©2008 Elizabeth Williams
photo by Monisette
was shriveled and brown and I was the culprit. Not such a terrible crime, perhaps,
but I was responsible for the plant's well-being and I had failed it miserably. I
stood, shoulders slumped and awash in guilt, and sadly took in the scattering of
withered leaves that littered the front steps as I thought about how this neglect had
come to pass.
I had purchased this fern because I wanted to save it from the poor conditions that
it was enduring. Most plants at that giant discount store look pretty good for a
few days after their arrival, but the growing conditions are inadequate and the care
is not skilled and inevitably they all look pretty dreadful within a couple of weeks.
The fern was a fresh arrival on the day I spotted it hanging in a crush of other
plants and, although it was scrawny, it showed promise. I paid a paltry $6.98 for
my little plant, which was about all it was worth, but I was sure that I could
nurture it into a fine specimen.
I lavished a great deal of attention on that little fern in the beginning. I replanted it
into a roomier pot, I placed it in a prime location and I fed and watered it
regularly. In response, it grew into a lovely, vigorous plant: a picture-perfect fern!
But then I began to take its health for granted and although I watered it regularly, I
fed it only when I had time in my busy schedule. My fern still looked great and I
didn't worry much about the diminished care I was giving it. Then the days grew
hotter, but I neglected to water the plant more frequently in response to the heat
because I was no longer paying much attention to it. My fern had become such
an accustomed sight that I rarely actually looked at it. Until it nearly died, that is.
As Christians, we are called to spread the Good News and bring others to Christ.
In response to that call, we enthusiastically launch one evangelism project after
another and we are thrilled when new faces are seen on Sunday mornings and
when membership classes fill quickly. We invite those new members to every
church event and we lavish them with attention. We make sure they get to know
others with similar interests in the congregation and we urge them to get involved.
Essentially, we re-pot them into our church, feed them generously on the Word
and place them where they will grow best.
But after a while, those new members are overshadowed by other, newer, faces in
the pews. Forgetting that our world is a treacherous place for all Christians, both
those new to faith and those who have spent a lifetime in Christ, we assume that
the newly-established members will be capable of managing their own faith walk
and that they will continue to grow in Christian maturity without as much attention
from us. Probably not. We are as fragile as ferns and we must continue to nurture
and feed each other constantly. As it says in Isaiah 37:27, "...¦they are like plants
in the field, like tender green shoots, like grass sprouting on the roof, scorched
before it grows up." It doesn't take long for an overlooked and under-cultivated
new member to start to wither and, yes, those old-time members need
nourishment as well. We are gardeners who are given the joyful responsibility of
the earthly care of our Father's most delicate and complicated creation - our fellow
man.
I noticed the condition of my poor fern just in time and I was able to nurse it
gradually back to health. Its recovery is an on-going process and I fear that the
plant's vigor will be affected for a long time. I plan to observe my fellow church
members with increased awareness of their often overlooked needs and "water"
them accordingly, as well. Take a look around you. How are your ferns?
©2008 Elizabeth Williams
photo by Monisette