God lets Flowers Grow

In my heart I feel that if God planted a seed he would let the seed grow, not make the seed grow. Technically he has the power to force the seedling into a flower, but I do not believe he does. He would not be breaking any technical laws because the seed does not have agency-- like humans. I preferred the perspective that God provided sunshine, rain, and soil for the seed to grow. He gave it all that it has, and then encouraged the seedling to stretch out and grow. I’m not claiming he abandoned it, because the sun shines every day, and rain still falls. In my understanding he let it grow.
I feel that God acts the same with the life. Nature takes it course and I fall prey to disease, trails, and hardships. That does take away from his divine power over all the elements, but I truly believe that he allows flowers to grow on their own and nature to progress in the laws that he has established.
Although I am still trying to pull out all of the strings twining around my thoughts and testimony this idea came from a few summers ago. Mosquito bitten, sunburned, and unshowered after floating sixty two miles down the Green River my group did a bike ride were down slope of the last two miles tried to compensate for the constant uphill of the other twenty eight miles of the trail. Initially flashing down mountainside felt supernaturally weightless, but as the red rock bolder drew closer and my attempts to turn the handle bars felt stiff and robotic all I could think of was I’m to young to die, but here it goes.
My front tire hit the bolder. Inspired by either fear or faith I released my bike-- sending the jagged bars and poles into a patch of red sand far from my tumbling body. As I staggered up a sting of isolation pricked my courage before I saw my friend Rob in front of me turn around and peddle back towards me.
The space of time between the crash and the being seated on the back seat of Blowe’s truck with a double chocolate chip Granny-B cookie is blurred with concerned dirt covered faces helping me gain my balance. Blowe unfolded his first-aid kit and rubbed an alcohol pad on my bleeding shoulder. Resisting the urge to scream at him I gripped the edge of the truck, and endured the feeling of knives jabbing into my shoulder. After bandaging up my scrapes, and feeling my swelling knee to determine if it was broken I got back on my bike to finish the trail.
Rob let me borrow his mountain bike gloves to decrease the shock sent through the handle bars up my tender wrists. Adrenaline kept me from crying until I pondered how my body rolled three times in the only sand pits in the merciless red rock bed. That I had kept my helmet on. How Rob had seen me out of the corner of his eye. I new that God had watched out for he.
Just like he let the flower grow on it’s own. God let me hit a rock and roll down a mountainside all on my own (I am sure he could have thought of something less painful than rolling down a mountain side to teach me of his love, but apparently it was all I could think of) It is evident by how I missed all the hard rock patches while in my path that He never abandoned me. When the fullness of God’s love hit me that day the bike trail became lost in blurred tears and pathetic attempt to wipe my eyes which only left mud streaks across my face. When ever life gets hard I think back on that sweltering summer day. The feelings of love embraces me and I remember life might through me into a mountainside, but God never abandons me.
“Men art that thy might have joy,” he never said “Men art that thy might have a fluffy and easy life with no hardship and no challenges so that they can become a useless mushroom,” The God that I know wants me to grow. Like a flower I will reach towards the sunlight, and be bathed in drops of rain. Come what may I will hold onto my faith, and testimony that God loves me.