Glass House

It's the perfect place for plants. Humid. Warm. Near a sunny window (on those days when it's not cloudy and snowing). I like this antique bottle that was given to me by my parents. I drop any old plant down into the bottle and it easily takes root and thrives. Instant greenhouse.

But no matter how nice it is in the bottle, these plants never forget their Creator. They never get too comfortable being confined. They grow. They continually reach for the sky. They reach up, climb out, leave the safety of their home whenever they can, seeking something more.

And then there is us.

True, sometimes life can stink. But there are also those priceless days that life can seem almost perfect. Like a bottle full of healthy plants, it can seem that we are living in a giant perfect terrarium.

Father, may I never be content to live in the greenhouse. Keep me reaching up. For You. For more. Keep reminding me that this "perfect" earthly place you've provided for me is made of glass. It's easily shattered. Natural disasters, financial disasters, illness, death... everything can come crashing down in an instant. May I always look up to You, reach out for You, and never place my trust in those things that are temporary.

This can be a warm and sunny place to grow, but don't ever let me forget to look up! Help me to reach out of my warm comfort zone and seek the something more you have for me. This earthly greenhouse is not my real home.