Tucked quietly in a corner of the chapel sits a small Anthurium plant with pale green leaves. It’s been there since the COVID-19 shutdown, a silent witness during a season when the once-vibrant chapel fell into darkness and stillness. For four long years, the room meant for worship and renewal became more like a cave—empty, dark, and unused. Gone were the days when hungry souls, desperate and searching, would gather to hear God’s Word shared by enthusiastic, Spirit-filled volunteers.
During that season, the chapel became a nursery of sorts. Not for people—but for plants. The Anthurium and two Epipremnum Aureum (commonly known as Pothos) quietly endured the silence. The Anthurium in particular struggled. For nearly eight years, it clung to life in the harsh, artificial environment of prison, producing only limp, yellow-tinged leaves. I gave it a little water each week. Nothing more. And never—never—a single flower.
Until this week…
To my great surprise, the Anthurium bloomed.
A single, strikingly beautiful flower: deep red with a bright yellow spadix at its center.
Bold. Unexpected. A sign of life, of flourishing—even here.
That single bloom felt like a gift. A sign. A reminder.
You see, many of us in prison ministry labor faithfully, often without visible results. We show up week after week. We teach, we pray, we love. But sometimes, it feels like nothing is growing. No response. No transformation. No “fruit.” It can be discouraging.
But then I remembered the words of Paul in 1 Corinthians 3:6–9:
“I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.”
Most of us are not called to harvest the fruit of changed lives. We’re called to plant. Or to water. Or simply to show up—faithfully, patiently, persistently. The flower blooming in that forgotten chapel reminds me that God is always at work, even when we see no signs.
No one expects a flower in a dark, cold prison chapel. Just like few expect the beauty of a transformed life in a place of confinement. And yet, it happens. God brings life from the darkest places. He brings hope where none was thought possible. He causes growth—in His time.
So, dear co-laborers in Christ:
Be patient.
Be faithful.
Keep showing up.
Keep watering.
And trust the Master Gardener. One day, you may glimpse the bloom.
