Choose to Bloom

A cliché is a phrase that is overused and has, therefore, lost its impact. The word “cliché” is a word we borrowed from the French. The term refers to a metal template used in a printing press—the plate that was dipped in ink and stamped on paper. By definition, a cliché is non-unique and repetitive.

That being said, so much truth can be found inside these little linguistic capsules. Although they’re now considered trite, these phrases had to resonate with enough people to become cliché in the first place. One such platitude that has become increasingly significant to me is this:

Bloom where you’re planted.

It’s pretty self-explanatory: accept your reality and choose to thrive in your current circumstances. Optimistically accept your limitations and flourish within them. Choose to bloom. To this I say, Amen.

This concept is biblical. There are a few places in Scripture that allude to this principle, but I’ll highlight Philippians 4:11, which says, “I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances” (NIV).

The word “content” in this passage is the Greek word αυταρκης. (Don’t ask me how to pronounce it.) I’m told it occurs only once in all of Paul’s writings. Literally translated, the word means “self-sufficient.” I feel safe in assuming that Paul wasn’t using the term in an arrogant way. He wasn’t saying, “I don’t need anyone because I am self-sustaining and lack nothing.” Instead, I believe, he was saying, “I’ve seen rags, riches, and everything in between; I’ve learned how to be okay in all situations.”

Paul knew how to bloom where he was planted. Paul understood that contentment is related more to an internal frame of mind than an external frame of context. Paul realized that personal fulfillment is a choice.

Do you find yourself planted somewhere you never really wanted to be? Were you uprooted to a new garden that feels like a total downgrade? Do you lay your head on the pillow and think, This is so not where I pictured myself putting down roots?

Maybe you were planted in a so-so garden that was meant to be temporary. You always figured you’d uproot and transplant somewhere else, but that hasn’t happened yet and doesn’t look to be happening any time soon.

Maybe you were planted in a gorgeous garden that you thought would always be home, but life harshly yanked you out of the dirt and carried you away, kicking and screaming, to another garden where the soil is dry and the weeds grow tall.

Maybe you were uprooted to a new garden, and the new garden is fine, but it’s not home. It’s still not where you really want to bloom, and you left part of your root system behind.

The simple and overused phrase, “Bloom where you’re planted” reminds me to live in the present, growing and blossoming in the very epicenter of my reality. It reminds me not to pity myself or complain. It reminds me that life doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful. It reminds me to embrace my life as it is today, crabgrass and all. I can choose to bloom.

I am not condoning helplessness or lazy resignation. By all means, let’s never resign ourselves to mediocrity. I am also not implying that all gardens are the same. Some of us have been planted on a lush, green plain with nutrient-rich soil and optimal conditions for growth. Others are facing a cracked desert floor with prickly cacti and parched tongues, but vegetation can grow even there.

[Tweet “Even if I didn’t choose my garden, I can still choose to bloom.”]

My favorite cliché has been a source of strength during trying times. Even if I didn’t choose my garden, I can still choose to bloom. I can fertilize seedlings of gratitude and hope. I can stop comparing myself to my neighboring plants by remembering that every plant blooms in its own season. I can prune away self-pity and graft in self-empowerment. I can look to the heavenly florist who is more than able to bring about a sweetly-fragrant, stunning bouquet.

Amy Beaulieu lives in Michigan with her husband and children. She is a lover of music, language, and all things thought-provoking. She is a witness and testimony to God’s redemptive grace.

Image by Ulrike Leone from Pixabay