I've been thinking about that and all the ways we grow, not all of them easy. While we might have "movement" that isn't measurable as "progress," "growth" is, it seems to me, by definition measurable.
And sometimes, there, are immeasurable ways that we still need to grow. How much growing do I need to do until I stop reacting to race or gender? How much more growth do I have left to become the writer I want to be? Will I ever get to a point in my confidence about my abilities so I stop occasionally feeling apologetic about whatever it is I've just done? I can see ways that I've grown in these area and yet I know that there continues to be room for growth.
Yesterday, I noticed sprigs of grass and weeds coming up between the bricks that serve as pavement at the university where I work. I thought about how, with enough seeds and other circumstances, a brick could be displaced.
And then I thought, "a tiny mustard seed faith can roll away a stone."
Growing is part of the ongoing work of resurrection, at least metaphorically. Celebrating any growth in any area of our life is a step toward a more abundant life. A little growth in close quarters can rearrange the landscape.
For all the ways I've grown, I give thanks. Tiny seeds in dark crevices have grown to displace obstacles and change the ground I walk on. That I have room to grow, even the ability to grow is also worthy of thanksgiving. There are more stones to be rolled away.
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