When I officially moved out of my parents’ house years ago, my mom was sure to send me off with a potted plant in tow. My parents love to garden and have houseplants galore, so it came as no surprise that I would be given a little plant of my own to take with me. Why my mom thought it would survive is beyond me. But, I soon realized this little potted plant held a lot of significance.

The plant was a Christmas cactus. Now, if you aren’t familiar with Christmas cacti, one neat thing about them is that they are one of several plant species that can be propagated. Basically, you can separate little pieces or stems from the main plant and continue to grow those pieces in separate places. So the Christmas cactus I was given was a piece from my mom’s Christmas cactus. Which at one time was part of my grandmother’s Christmas cactus. Which had been a part of my great grandmother’s Christmas cactus. My plant was an extension of a long line of Christmas cacti belonging to a long line of women in my family. I was determined to keep it alive.

Now, I do not have any shade of a green thumb whatsoever, but luckily, Christmas cacti are pretty hearty and resilient and there’s not much I have to do to care for it. I’m proud to say that after all these years, and with a little bit of TLC here and there, my Christmas cactus is still alive and well.

It turns out, a Christmas cactus can live in the same pot for a good 3-4 years, so aside from watering it, the one other thing I’ve had to do is repot it a few times. And this past weekend, that is what I did. It’s been a few years and I’ve noticed leaves drooping and darkening, which is usually a sign that it needs new, fresh soil. So now that it’s done blooming, I got a slightly larger pot and a fresh bag of potting mix and repotted the Christmas cactus once again. Replanting isn’t the easiest thing - the roots often fight to hold on to the old soil. But in doing the work, I hope in my own small way, the “legacy” of my great grandmother’s Christmas cactus continues.

This Christmas cactus connection oddly reminds me of one of my favorite passages in Scripture, Hebrews 11. In it, the author traces the faith of many of our spiritual ancestors, from Abel, Enoch and Noah, Abraham and Moses, David and Solomon. The author even writes that there isn’t time or space to contain them all, but assures us that the list does go on. And finally, at the beginning of Hebrews 12, the author reminds us that we are surrounded by this great cloud of witnesses. That we are a continuation of the faith they lived out. They have passed the baton, so to speak, from generation to generation, and it is now ours to carry. We are part of a much bigger story. And even more so, we can see God’s faithfulness in their stories, trusting that God will continue to be faithful in ours.

Being reminded of the faith of our spiritual ancestors makes me want to commit to cultivating my own. But another thing I’m realizing through my Christmas cactus is that if we are going to continue to grow and bear fruit, sometimes that cultivation means fresh soil and a new pot. 

The reason my great-grandmother, grandmother, mom, sister (she got a piece when she moved out too!) and I have been able to keep these connected plants alive for nearly 100 years isn’t because they have been planted in the same pot, with the exact same soil the entire time. No, it’s because every so often, we take the time to replant and refresh. We let the roots stretch and breath anew in fresh soil, with room to grow and flourish.

Now, let me go ahead and say that I did not come up with this metaphor. It is courtesy of writer and poet Arielle Estoria, who shared a post on Instagram last week that I have continued to reflect on. Arielle shares about her own potted plant troubles and writes,

“I’ve looked up lots of different ways to tell when there’s something happening in the soil, with the roots of the plants by looking at the leaves. Sometimes you can find browned edges or leaves turned yellow, drooping etc… What helps? Changing the soil. Getting the roots out to start fresh, not overwatering, and the leaves? The leaves will tell you everything.

We’ve seen quite a but of this for awhile now - the roots of our society beginning to change the leaves on the surface. We are seeing sprouts of brown edges and dropping leaves, choking the goodness out of each other.

We’ve got some repotting to do. And it’s holy work, because if the roots are not love, then the fruit is not love. If the leaves are not thriving, the people aren’t either. This is not just about the big systems around us either. It’s about us right here *pointing to myself* these roots right here.”

I think Arielle is on to something. Particularly when she reminds us to look at the leaves, at the fruit. Because what we see and experience on the outside is often a direct reflection of what is going on inside. And if the fruit is not a reflection of Jesus, well, our faith might need some new soil.

So what fruit are we currently seeing and experiencing? 

Distrust. Misplaced loyalty. Fear. Shame. Injustice. Apathy. Distraction. Selfishness. Hatred. Cynicism. Impatience. Bitterness. The list goes on…

And what fruit are we called to, by the power of the Holy Spirit?

Love. Hope. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Generosity. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-control.

There is quite a stark difference between those two lists, and I think we need to reckon with what it might mean to seek new soil, to do the hard work of replanting, because if we stay the way we are right now, well, we risk both the integrity and credibility of our witness. God and God’s faithfulness never change, but sometimes we need to.  

Sometimes, in order to continue being transformed, we need to be transplanted. We need to make adjustments and reevaluate. We need to take an honest look at the soil, at what is feeding us, driving us, motivating us and determine if those things are actually leading us in the way of Jesus. When we do, we might find that the soil we need to be rooted in is 

Soil with more humility, and less pride.

Soil with more rest, and less rush.

Soil with more love, and less hate.

Soil with more color and equity.

Soil with more listening.

Soil with more service.

Soil with more prayer.

Soil with more connection.

Soil with more forgiveness.

Soil with more kindness.

Soil with more generosity.

Soil with more hope.

That is the soil we need to seek. That is the soil we need to prioritize. That is the soil of the great cloud of witnesses we are connected to and when we see rotten fruit, that is the soil we need to be replanted in. The work is not easy, but it is holy, and the fruit is worth it.

In closing, I’d like to share a prayer from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, Ephesians 3: 14-21.

14 For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, 15 from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name. 16 I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, 17 and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. 18 I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, 19 and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. 20 Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

Today, if your leaves are dull and drooping, remember, sometimes we need new soil. May we not shy away from the work of replanting and may we prioritize being rooted and grounded in the way of Jesus, always remembering that while the work is not easy, it is holy, and the fruit is worth it.