The Seeds Are Still Cosmos

This morning, while organizing my gardening corner, I stumbled across a small, weathered envelope. Handwritten on the front, in my father’s script, were the words *“Cosmos – Heirloom.”* My breath caught for a moment. These were the seeds from my father’s garden—generations of bright, cheerful blooms, carefully harvested, saved, and passed to me years ago.

As I held the envelope in my hands, the Holy Spirit stirred my heart.

“The seeds are still Cosmos,” He whispered, “but they cannot become what they were created to be unless they are planted.”

That truth echoed deep within me.

You see, each autumn I would lovingly gather the dried seed heads from my blooming Cosmos, tucking them away for spring. I knew the pattern well—growth, bloom, harvest, rest. And yet this particular envelope had gone untouched. Forgotten. Dormant.

The seeds were still full of potential—still perfectly formed, still alive. But without being placed in the soil, watered, and exposed to light, they would remain unfulfilled promises. They were, quite simply, flowers in waiting.

And isn't that how our lives can be?

Jesus told a story in Matthew 13:3–9 about a sower who scattered seeds. Some fell on a path and were eaten by birds. Some landed on rocky places, where they sprang up quickly but withered because they had no roots. Others fell among thorns that choked the life from them. But some fell on good soil—and *those* seeds produced an abundant crop.

I have lived in each of those environments.

There was a time when my heart was hard, like that path. I looked only at the difficult circumstances around me and refused to allow God to soften me from within. I clung to bitterness, fear, and control. The seed could not grow—not because it lacked potential, but because I would not receive what God was offering.

Later, I lived among weeds. My decisions were tangled with the expectations of others and the pressure to perform. I tried to please everyone—everyone but God. And though there was growth, it was stunted and exhausting. The weeds of insecurity and distraction competed for every bit of spiritual nourishment.

But then, by grace, I made the choice to become good soil. It didn’t mean I had it all together. I still don’t. But I turned fully to God. I began tending the ground of my heart with prayer, Scripture, and trust. And slowly, the seeds He had placed in me began to bloom.

Ephesians 2:10 says, “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

Each of us carries seeds—dreams, callings, compassion, creativity, joy—that are waiting to be planted.

Like the Cosmos from my earthly father, the seeds God has entrusted to us are heirlooms from our Heavenly Father—sacred, generational, and beautiful.

But they must be planted.

Creative Call to Action:

This week, I invite you to do a gentle inventory of your heart. What heirloom seeds has God placed in your soul that you've stored away? What dreams have remained dormant while you waited for the “right” time?

Take one small step to plant one of those seeds.

Maybe it’s journaling a dream, reaching out to a hurting friend, creating something with your hands, or simply turning off the noise and sitting in stillness with God. Ask Him to prepare the soil of your heart. Trust that He will water and grow what you surrender.

And when spring comes—because it always does—you’ll see the beauty unfold.

Because the seeds are still Cosmos. And they were made to bloom.**

Stay Creative,

Bethany

The Blue Bee – A tender place for the worn, the brave, and the blooming.