This tendril is holding up 3 cucumbers on the vine, by itself. I think of thin spaghetti. This simple tendril, which does what it was intended to do, no larger than angel hair pasta that's been cooked, has the strength to hold up triple it's weight, or more.
The plan which was to be a part of a plant has been followed.
The plant had no choice.
The plant, the parts of the plant, do what they are supposed to do,
the plant dies.
I have one cucumber plant which is strong and healthy.
I have another one,
I don't know why, is half the size,
and collapses to the ground.
I can't fix it, so I let nature take it's course.
Sometimes, even though we don't like it,
we have to do what we are intended to do,
whether that be
lead an army
or take care of the children.
Sometimes, we have to do both.
It's not that we can't.
We have to choose and discern where our strength is,
like the tendril,
if it tried to be a cucumber,
it would fail and die.
The plant might also die.
The fruit of our works is peace.
No one said it would be easy.
Not everyone can be a Mother Teresa or a Dorothy Day.
Humility comes with knowing who we are supposed to be.
Humility comes with doing what we are supposed to do,
even when it is painful,
even when it is difficult.
There is a purpose for our life.
No one can do what we were supposed to do,
history is changed when we refuse to follow the plan
when we feel we cannot.
The tendril has a job to do.
It might not be what it would choose to do, but without it's strength,
the plant could not support the fruit.
I sit in silence.
I hear the call.
Each season brings differences.
Listen to the call.
Be all you can be.
Serve as you are intended.