Becoming One of a Kind

Why Spiritual Growth is Better than Being Fixed

So I've been thinking about how we constantly strive for perfection, even when we don't admit it or realize it, and suddenly cultivars popped into my head.

Which, I know—random. Right now, you may be wondering what on earth a cultivar is and why I am thinking or talking about it. Stay with me, hear me out.

Well, a cultivar is a variety of a plant that exists because someone intentionally selected it, planted it, and tended it thoughtfully over time. Cultivars don’t just spring up wild somewhere. In other words, a cultivar is cultivated. It became what it is through seasons of someone paying attention to it.

The Kitchen Confessional

Real life happens at 2 PM in the kitchen. Sometimes, the growth hasn't reached the surface yet—and that’s okay.

I don't know why I thought of cultivars. Maybe because last Tuesday I was standing in my kitchen at 2 pm, still in the shirt I slept in, eating chips and thinking that, at my age, I should know better than to eat chips as a main source of sustenance. Except they are my absolute weakness.

At my age, shouldn't I be further along by now? Shouldn't something have clicked into place to keep me from doing silly things that aren't helpful or healthy?

Lessons from the Rose Bush

And then I thought about my neighbor's rose bushes. She's out there almost every day, tending to them, removing the weeds, deadheading, watering. She’s been working on them for years. They didn't look like much at first—a bare tangled mess, looking brittle and scraggly. As they started to grow, there were a few blooms here and there. But now? They're stunning.

But it didn’t happen overnight; it took time, attention, and care. She was out there cutting things back when it probably felt wrong to cut. It took winters where nothing seemed to be happening at all.

Pruning hurts, but the Gardener knows exactly what He is doing. We aren't being fixed; we are being grown.

As women, we go through a variety of stages, so many ups and downs, disappointments, quiet struggles. The big losses and the small daily ones. It's kids growing up; for some, it's tending to parents growing old; it's jobs that drain us, relationships that confuse us, and bodies that keep changing on us. It's standing in kitchens, wondering if this is it.

And through all of that, God's doing something.

I really believe that. I couldn’t show you a neat picture or diagram of how He’s working. But when I think about it, I realize that He's not leaving us the way He found us. That He's up to something, especially when I can't see it.

Fixed vs. Grown

The thing about a cultivar is it can't cultivate itself. It just has to stay in the ground and let the work happen. And I think that's where I get tripped up. Because I'm a doer. I want to fix myself. I make lists and plans, and I read the books and try the methods, and then I'm frustrated when I'm still just me, standing in the kitchen, chips in hand.

Think about this.

What if I'm not supposed to be fixed? What if I'm supposed to be grown?

Those are different things. One of them I control. The other one I don't.

That's scary. But it's also a relief. What if I could stop striving to become some version of myself that was never the point anyway?

Seeing Yourself as God Sees You

God doesn't want us to stay in our original state. Like the rose, through persistent cultivation, in time, we become who He wants us to be. That's the part I keep coming back to. He looks at the wild, messy, imperfect person we are today, and He sees us as unique, rare, one of a kind.

He sees a beautiful woman created in His image, with a purpose and strength that comes through grace over time. It doesn’t happen overnight. He shows us our purpose, gives us the strength, and through sanctification, we become who He made us to be. A rare, unique, beautiful rose. A magnificent cultivar. His love and grace get us there. Remember, we are not the seasons of our lives.

I don't know what season you're in. Maybe it's one of those winters where nothing looks alive. Maybe you're being pruned, and it hurts, and you don't understand why. Maybe you're blooming, and you're scared it won't last.

I just want you to know: in time, with Him leading you, you're not an accident. You're not a copy of someone else's garden. You're becoming something that only you can become—one specific, rare, one of a kind.

You are a rare, one-of-a-kind cultivar. Stay planted, stay hopeful, and let Grace do the heavy lifting.

Stay planted. That's all.

Keep shining right where you are, my friend