Seasons: Growth
We live in a society that esteems speed and efficiency. Early is better than on time. We don’t like slow, not typically anyways. We want results, and we want them quickly. Our fast-paced world rarely accommodates our need for a slower pace, so we rush to keep up.
In our scramble to keep pace, something gets lost.
We lose an awareness of the slow things in life. Is there anywhere this is more evident that in our personal growth? We want productivity, speed, efficiency … so achieving growth slowly can feel like a fate worse than death at times.
But what if growth wasn’t measured by how quickly it was achieved, but rather by what was grown? And what if we were patient enough to realize that if there are seasons for growth, maybe it’s also natural for there to be seasons of rest and dormancy?
Years ago, I found myself studying the process a seed goes through, from being planted through producing fruit. I was fascinated by what I learned. It’s a long process!
…watch this 10 day time lapse of a seed germinating!
The seed is buried. It’s watered. And then it absorbs enough water to bursts open—the death of the seed. It’s bursting yields new life—growth. But the process isn’t complete. Before the plant can make its way upward, roots must grow down.
There are many parallels we can draw from this simple example of a seed.
The first is the realization that being buried under adversity has a unique ability to produce growth. We can be crushed by its weight, or we can find our place & bear up under it. The latter produces strength and equips us for what often comes next… often more adversity.
This life is hard. But this life is also very good. More often than not, both are true at the same time.
Like a seed buried in dark, cold soil, we often feel buried beneath the weight of our circumstances. Similarly, as the seed must absorb water and burst, our growth often occurs when we endure through the breaking.
But does growth only occur through pain and suffering?
I don’t think so.
Just like the seed, there are seasons of planting, seasons of watering, and seasons of taking root – all significant parts to the overall season of growth. And just like most plants, there is often a season of rest when we visibly produce little to nothing.
See, when we look for metrics to measure our growth, using feelings & feedback to derive our value and worth, I fear we set ourselves up to be disappointed.
But if we view growth as a season nested among many other seasons, I think we might just find ourselves hopeful. It stops being about how quickly we can grow, and becomes more about what we’re seeking to become.
We learn to accept that our value and worth come from the nature of seed that was planted, not the speed of its growth.