A Packet Of Seeds

I have a packet of seeds.
They came in a box with other items.
They came as part of an online conference I attended virtually this past October.
It is the conference I usually attend in person, but like everything else, it was put on hold.

Tickets for this year’s creativity conference went on sale last week.
I didn’t even try to obtain one.
All the people who had tickets in 2020, when everything shut down, are now able to use them.
There was only a handful of new tickets available for this year’s conference.

I thought of all the wonderful friends I have met being part of this community.
It has been wonderful connecting on social media the past two years, but it is not the same.
It is not the same as sitting together and listening to a speaker.
It is not the same as sharing a meal together.

For the past two years, the conference has been virtual.
Homebound was an appropriate name.
Behind the scenes, people worked tirelessly to build an online platform to accommodate us.
More people were able to participate online than the number who could attend in person.

For that one weekend, my place was at my laptop for session after session.
What I could not view in real time, I watched later.
The conference was archived.
Except for the the fact that I was not there in person, Homebound was the next best thing.

Inside the box, next to some books I received, was a packet of seeds.
There was no indication of the type of seeds inside.
There were no directions as to where to plant them or the amount of sunlight and water.
True to the level of creativity I am used to, there was only imaginative words on the back.

WARNING: This envelope contains plant eggs of unknown purpose and intent! Should you choose to incubate them in your abodal loam, they may hatch into plant babies and stage an uprising in a desperate attempt to control the surrounding flora. Should these unruly floral young be allowed to grow to maturity and spread forth further progeny, there may be no end to the reach of their hidden tendrils or their rule.
You have been warned.
P.S. (Send pics of your plant babies.)

That was all.
No help.
No clue.
Only the imaginative “nonsense” I am used to reading.

We had our landscaper come to do spring cleanup and planting.
One lilac bush has to be taken out and replaced with another.
Mulch has to be laid down and some sod has to be laid down in shady areas.
Playground mulch is to go around the swing set my husband built for our grandchildren.

Do I dare?
Do I show the seed packet to the landscaper?
Would he be able to tell what kind of seeds are inside?
Would he be totally confused if he read the back of the envelope?

I walked out onto the side porch near where he was working.
I told him about the seeds.
Are they annual or perennial? He asked.
I have no idea, I answered, trying to read his face.

I went inside to get the packet of seeds.
He looked at the graphic of the tree on the front.
He turned it over and looked confused as he read words that were not meant to be understood.
Can I open it? He asked me.

After my enthusiastic, of course, he made a slight tear along the top.
A woman who works with him told me about a library that gave out seed packets.
I thought it was such a wonderful idea, she said, but you know what kind of seeds you get.
That would have been helpful.

The landscaper poured some seeds into his hand.
He gently touched each one.
I could see that each one was different.
These are wildflower seeds, he told me with a smile.

He pointed to a place where they should be planted.
Right over there, he said.
I was pleased because when my plant babies grow, I will see them from my porch swing.
I was excited to think about their beauty.

You really don’t have to dig a hole to plant them, he said.
Just move the mulch, rough up the ground, and scatter the seeds.
That seemed too easy.
Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to do just that.

While a large crowd was gathering and people were coming to Jesus from town after town, he told this parable: “A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path; it was trampled on, and the birds ate it up. Some fell on rocky ground, and when it came up, the plants withered because they had no moisture. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up with it and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up and yielded a crop, a hundred times more than was sown.” When he said this, he called out, “Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear.” (Luke 8:4-8)

I put the seed packet on my desk in the kitchen.
I planned to scatter the seeds the next day.
I want to scatter them on good soil.
I want to see beauty, just waiting to be “hatched.”

Sharing the Gospel is much like planting seeds.
Unlike my seed packet, we know the Good News we share.
The growth is not up to us; rather, the growth is in God’s hands.
We just have to be faithful to scatter the seeds.

I cannot wait to see my wildflowers.
Soil, water, sunlight, and a little scattering of seeds.
Sounds like a plan.
May there be no end to the reach of their hidden tendrils or their rule.