My dad’s visits became less and less frequent, and I thought no more of the shrub. Until last night. Drawing my attention to the now very-much-dead plant outside, my dad was upset and hurt that I had not looked after the plant. I should have watered it at least once a week, he said. He had expected me to do it, and felt thoroughly disappointed that I had not done so.
The trouble is – I couldn’t care less about the plant. I actually hadn’t even noticed its gradual decline, so it was as much a surprise to me as it was to him that it was now brown in colour. I then began to protest at the ridiculousness of having to look after it, and the fact that I have ‘far more important things to do’ than water his plant once a week. How on earth can I spend two of my precious minutes filling up the can, stepping outside and dowsing the palm, when I am SO busy and important!?
However, this isn’t really about foliage. My lack of care and failure to comply to his wishes reveals a deeper problem in me. If I really cared about my dad, I would care about what he cares about. True, I don’t really care about plants. But I should care that my dad cares about plants. I should water it because I love my dad and he loves the plant – even if I can’t comprehend why.
I was chatting to a friend the other day about some potential changes occurring in her life, and she asked: ‘But do you think God really cares about this stuff? These small details?’ It’s a good question. God has a huge perspective – the ultimate perspective on life. All of the things we care about and think are important must seem so small and insignificant to him. I bet there are times when God wants to shout – like I did to my dad – ‘It doesn’t matter!!’
But God is love. And just as I’m beginning to realise in relation to my dad and his horticultural exploits: if God loves us and cares about us, he will care about what we care about. Even if these things are ridiculous. Even if they aren’t important. Even if from a God-perspective they don’t even figure on the grand scheme of life.
Thankfully – you will be pleased to hear – there is hope yet for the plant. My dad thinks that with regular watering and weeding the plant has a chance of survival.
Lord, please help me to care about this plant.
Phoebe Thompson is the deputy editor of Youthwork.
