If you have been following along, we have been talking about sowing seeds in the midst of life transitions and cultivating the soil where those seeds are planted. But there is another part of gardening that can be especially difficult during transition: Waiting for something to grow.
You plant the seed.
You tend the soil.
You water it.
And then…nothing seems to happen.
At least, nothing you can see.
Life transitions can feel much the same way.
You may have made the decision, taken the next step, begun exploring new possibilities, or released something that once defined your life. You may be doing all the “right” things, yet you still don't have much evidence that anything is changing.
You wonder:
Am I making progress?
Did I make the right decision?
Why don't I feel different yet?
When will I know what comes next?
But what if there is more happening beneath the surface than you realize?
Growth isn't always visible.
When a seed is planted, there is a period when nothing appears to be happening. Yet underneath the soil, roots are forming. The seed is beginning to break open. Something is taking shape before there is anything visible above ground.
Transitions can be like that.
There may be internal work happening that no one else can see.
You may be discovering what matters to you now.
You may be grieving what you have lost.
You may be releasing an identity that no longer fits.
You may be learning new rhythms.
You may be rebuilding confidence.
You may be becoming more aware of your values, desires, gifts, and limitations.
You may be learning to trust yourself—and God—in a new way.
None of these things necessarily look like progress from the outside. But they are growth.
Don't dig up the seed to see if it's growing. One of the hardest things about waiting is the temptation to keep checking.
We want reassurance.
We want evidence.
We want to know that our efforts are producing something.
But sometimes constantly digging up the seed keeps us from allowing the growth to happen.
In transition, this might look like repeatedly questioning every decision, comparing your journey with someone else's, rushing to find the next opportunity, or feeling like you need to have everything figured out before you can move forward.
Sometimes the invitation is simply to keep tending the soil.
Keep showing up.
Keep listening.
Keep resting.
Keep paying attention.
Keep taking the next small step.
And give yourself permission not to know the whole story yet.
Pay attention to the small signs of growth.
Eventually, something begins to emerge.
Maybe it's tiny.
Maybe it's just the first green shoot.
It doesn't look like the full-grown plant you imagined.
But it is evidence that something is happening.
The same is true in transition.
Maybe you notice that you have more energy.
You recognize a boundary you need to establish.
You find yourself curious about something again.
You laugh more easily.
You have a conversation you couldn't have had six months ago.
You begin imagining possibilities instead of only focusing on what you've lost.
You realize that something you once thought you needed is no longer necessary.
These may seem like small things. But don't overlook them. Small signs of growth are still growth.
What are you cultivating now?
Perhaps the question isn't simply, “What do I need to accomplish next?”
Perhaps a better question is:
“What is being cultivated in me during this season?”
Maybe this season is cultivating patience.
Courage.
Resilience.
Clarity.
Trust.
Creativity.
Compassion.
A deeper sense of who you are.
A willingness to receive instead of always producing.
A new understanding of what makes life meaningful.
Your transition may not be producing visible results yet, but that doesn't mean it is unproductive.
There may be roots growing.
And roots matter.
They provide the foundation for what eventually becomes visible.
So if you find yourself in a season where you are sowing seeds, cultivating the soil, and waiting for something to emerge, don't assume that nothing is happening.
Give yourself permission to grow beneath the surface.
Tend what has been entrusted to you.
Notice the small signs.
Trust the process.
And remember: you don't have to see the whole plant to believe that growth is happening.
Sometimes the most important work of transition is happening where no one—including you—can see it yet.
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