Three Hours of Watering and a Lesson About Rest

The healthy and thriving waterleaf and peppers I found when I returned home

 Gardening is not simply about the fun or the harvest. For me, it is even more about the lessons the plants teach whenever I slow down long enough to pay attention.

A few days ago, I was preparing to leave town for several days. The weather had been brutally hot, with no rain in sight, and some of my plants were already beginning to dry beneath the scorching sun. I had just returned from work, completely exhausted. All I wanted was to eat, take a shower, and go to bed early so I could wake up refreshed for my trip.

But I had two choices. I could go to bed and enjoy a few extra hours of sleep, knowing I might return to shriveled, burned plants. Or I could spend those hours giving the garden a deeper watering than usual, hoping it would sustain the plants until I came home.

I chose the latter. Before I knew it, two hours, and then three, had passed. It got so dark that I had to use my phone's flashlight to finish watering. I was tired, but I was fulfilled.

When I returned from my trip, the plants were obviously thirsty, but they were still standing and thriving. The water I had given them before leaving had carried them through the days I was away.

When I came back home, the fluted pumpkin plants were obviously thirsty, but they were still thriving

And I could not help thinking: Is life not like that sometimes? There are moments when every part of us wants to stop, quit, or settle, yet something within urges us to give just a little more.

It might be an extra hour of studying or working. A few more minutes in prayer. Another chapter of God’s Word. A little more patience when you are running on empty. An encouraging phone call. A genuine smile offered to a stranger even while your own heart feels heavy.

Never underestimate the value of that extra effort. Like small deposits in a good savings account, these choices can produce dividends we do not see until the day we need them. The extra hour of studying might earn the point that helps someone pass. Time in God’s presence may bring the wisdom, clarity, or courage a difficult decision requires. A simple smile might become the brightest moment in someone else’s day. A word of encouragement may give another person enough strength to keep going.

But gardening has taught me something else too: sometimes the ‘extra watering’ is not doing more. Sometimes it is resting.

Sometimes it is saying yes when help is offered. Choosing stillness instead of striving. Taking care of yourself so your body can recover and your soul can breathe again. Rest can replenish strength, renew zeal, and prepare us for the next season of growth.

The wisdom is in recognizing what the season actually needs. On that particular night, my garden needed three hours of water. On another day, faithfulness may look like putting down the hose, accepting my limits, and allowing myself to rest.

After all, “Paul may plant, and Apollos may water, but only God gives the growth” (1 Cor 3:6–7). Our part is to plant, water, rest, and obey as He leads. The outcome has never rested entirely in our hands.

Fresh okra, tomatoes, and a pepper that I harvested when I got home.

So keep planting. Keep watering. When the season feels especially hot and unfavorable, do not give up. Water a little more if that is what God is asking of you, or rest if rest is the watering your soul needs. Then trust Him with what only He can do.

The harvest belongs to God. Our work is to remain attentive enough to know what faithfulness requires today.

Sometimes faithfulness means watering a little longer. Sometimes it means putting down the hose and letting your own soul be restored.

Chidi - counselor, gardener, storyteller, and lifelong student of the lessons hidden in ordinary moments.

Garden & Reflections offers a glimpse into the experiences and everyday lessons that shape me beyond the therapy room. These personal reflections are shared thoughtfully while honoring the professional boundaries of the counseling relationship.