I have a sad, persistent, and highly annoying struggle with keeping anything green alive. After decades of attempts, here are the most common reasons my houseplants seem to die premature deaths:
not enough water 💦
feline intervention 🐈
Can anyone relate?
Wait, before you answer, I’m not looking for you green thumbs to tell me how to keep them alive. I’ve heard plenty of your advice over the years. You all want to tell me how easy it is… “they just need the right amount of three things: water, sun, and love, yada yada yada.” 🤮 Spare me. 🙅🏻♀️ I’ve tried your little tricks and found them to be lacking. So the answer is it’s me, I get it. Today I’m looking to commiserate with fellow plant-killers here. 🙋🏻♀️
Apparently, there are plenty of us plant-killers.
Here are some fun plant statistics (source) for U.S. plant owners:
66% had at least one houseplant in a 2020 survey, but that number is likely higher now because COVID increased houseplant sales by at least 15%.
47% of us houseplant owners feel disappointed when we accidentally kill a plant, but 27% felt nothing. (I wanted to put a “wow” emoji here but then realized I have definitely just thrown a plant away with little emotion attached, so wow-me.)
The most common reason for these accidental plant deaths? At least 50% of us admit we forget to water our plants correctly or at all. In fact, most of the respondents in one study assigned just five minutes a week attending to their plants.
I’m definitely in the majority for all three of those stats. Despite how many plants have died on my watch, I just keep hoping they’ll be stayin’ alive. Maybe this is why the inter webs decided to show me a video about the right way to hydrate our plants. I’ll spare you (and your algorithms) the full video, but here’s what was news to me.
After one video, I was shown several more (of course). I watched as (shocker) people carried their houseplants to the sink and watered them all to the point of seeing dirty water overflow from the drainage holes and down the drain. Only after the water stopped dripping did they return each plant to their designated saucers throughout the house.
Immediately, I realized I was doing it wrong for decades. (You mean emptying the dregs of my water bottle into the closest plant every other day isn’t enough? Just kidding, mom. 😉)
Also immediately, I gathered my plants in my sink and did as I was told—saturating my plants with this necessary nutrient, until the soil couldn’t hold any more liquid.
Immediately after that, I used the hose on my outside plants until they, too, had streams of water overflowing from the bottom of the pot. I was surprised at just how long it took to make that happen, which probably provides an indication as to the dryness of those roots.
It was as I watched the water escape from this mum, that I recognized the similarities between my plants and myself. I need water, yes, but that wasn’t the thought capturing my attention.
In my mind, I saw an image of my various spiritual watering practices, which were not unlike how I typically watered my houseplants, especially when I’m busy. A little scripture reading here, a smattering of prayer there, with a sampling of sermons sprinkled throughout. It’s no surprise that the busiest of times is often synonymous with the driest spiritually. Satan prefers it that way, I’m sure.
Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness. —Colossians 2:7
The next thought came from the depth of my soul: I need more of you, Lord.
Reflecting back on my walk with Jesus over the past 30 years, the richest seasons of both growth and peace have been those of deep spiritual saturation, to the point where the overflow was more of him than me.
The word saturate has a few definitions, but this one is my favorite:
This definition sent me to the pages of Paul’s letter to the Philippians, where I recalled his prayer for a similar type of saturation:
I pray that your love will overflow more and more, and that you will keep on growing in knowledge and understanding.
—Philippians 1:9
If I want my life to look like that, to be united with the greatest possible amount of Jesus, I need to saturate myself with his Word, through more-than-the-dregs-of-my-water-bottle amounts of reading, listening, worship, prayer, study, rest, and obedience. I already know this, of course, because I’ve seen the fruit of this before and will see it again.
Unlike the plant watering trick, this wasn’t a shocking revelation, but rather a gentle, just-in-time, reminder of the nourishment I need for healthy roots and shoots.
Saturate me with you, God. Cause me to unite with as much of you as possible, so that what grows in me is rooted in you alone, and what flows from me is your grace, joy, and love.
What helps you unite with the greatest possible amount of Jesus?
I water my flowers to saturation. My husband sprays them from afar. I see our spiritual lives in the same way. Some will saturate their hearts with the Word. Some will view the Word from afar, occasionally visiting church or picking up the Bible. To keep my faith alive, I must saturate it!