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I am so excited to welcome "The Confident Christian" my daughter, Shannon Romualdi as a guest blogger this month. I know you will be blessed by her reflections on being in a waiting season in her blog entitled The Planting Season. God bless you Shannon as you share your light and serve Jesus with all your heart. Be sure to follow her on Instagram for more faith based and encouraging content. (Link below)  “At just the right time, we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up.” ~ Galatians 6:9 Did you know that a Chinese bamboo tree takes five full, long, strenuous, patient, enduring years before it even breaks through the surface? Yes, you read that correctly! To put that into perspective, if I planted a Chinese bamboo tree today in my backyard, in September, 2024, I would not see the fruits of my labour until 2029. (Geez! Talk about patience-testing!) If you are blessed with a green thumb, this probably does not come as a surprise to you. This is because unlike me, you have spent the time to educate yourself on the time and effort it takes to receive a bountiful harvest. However, if you are a little naive like me, and plants nearly die when you simply glance at them, this was shocking, and honestly quite frustrating news. (If you think I am being dramatic I have somehow managed to kill a cactus. I mean that takes skill.) You see friends, the bamboo tree spends approximately 1,825 days in the cold, hard, dark, and dirty ground in complete and total isolation in the most crucial years of its little life. The poor little seedling doesn’t even get a glimpse of a light at the end of the tunnel or a vision of what's to come. The poor bamboo plant has no idea when the harvest is going to come, or for that matter if it's even going to come at all.  Photo by Greta Hoffman at Pexels This bamboo tree is in what we as Christians call the "planting season." For those of you who are unfamiliar with the term “planting season,” let me define that for you. The planting season can best be explained as: a period when God lays dreams, visions, and desires on your heart, but they have yet to take root and manifest in your life. For these dreams, desires, and visions to come to fruition, you have to plant those dreams in your heart, surrender them to God’s will, let them take root in a firm foundation, “water” those dreams and desires daily through Bible studies and prayer, and be faithful in the small things. The planting season, although can be very frustrating and isolating for many, is crucial to our development and growth as believers. Why? The reason is the planting season is when we experience immense growth and refinement, all while drawing nearer to God.  You may be facing a planting season as we speak and can relate all too well to the bamboo plant in its first phase of life. You may feel resentment and anger towards God as you look all around you and feel God is blessing everyone with a rich harvest, except you. You are looking up at others' great harvests when you are in the dark, dirty ground, and feel so alone on your journey. Trust me when I say I've been there! That is a natural human feeling. Don’t beat yourself up. Unless you were born yesterday (which if you were, I am super impressed you are reading this right now), you know all too well that we live in a society where comparison is all too common. But can I tell you something? Don’t let yourself stay there, because when you see others' rich harvest you are only seeing what I like to call the “tip of the iceberg”. You have no idea what trials and tribulations they had to endure to get to where they are now. I can assure you they too endured what at one point felt like a never-ending planting season. So with that in mind, I think we need to shift our mindsets because while you may be feeling that God is absent from your life, He is working on you more than ever in this season. God has you on a path that is perfect for YOU and YOU alone. Your timeline will be different from others and that is perfectly okay. He is refining and preparing a way where there seems to be no way. He is making beauty from ashes. You see the bamboo tree had to develop strong roots and a firm foundation in the soil just like we as Christians have to do in our faith walk as we create a firm foundation in Christ.  Photo by Ryutaro Tsukata at Pexels Can I tell you something friends that I purposely left out at the beginning? Once the bamboo tree breaks ground, it can grow to nearly 90 FEET in FIVE short weeks. Excuse me what?? Let that sink in. We are talking about a plant that took FIVE years to even break the surface. Although the planting season for this poor little plant took such a long time, its harvest was blessed beyond anything it could ask, think, or imagine. Let’s talk about the story of Joseph, the highly favored son of Jacob because his story reminds me so much of the Chinese bamboo tree. For YEARS, Joseph endured intense pain and heartache. His planting season must have seemed like an eternity yet, his harvest was one of the greatest harvests we read about in the Bible. But I am getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind the tape for a minute for those of you who are unfamiliar with this story. It started with Joseph receiving a beautiful-coloured coat from his father; Jacob. Joseph’s twelve brothers knew he was highly favored by Jacob and for that, they held a deep hatred for their brother. Bitterness, resentment, and jealousy consumed them. This led the brothers to take Joseph away and sell him as a slave in Egypt. If that wasn’t bad enough, he was later imprisoned for a crime he did not commit. (This sounds like a badly scripted TV show, but you seriously cannot make this stuff up.) Joseph had no reason to hope and certainly no reason to dream. Nothing in his life was going his way. His planting season was long, hard, and oh-so painful, but during this season, God was equipping Joseph for GREATNESS. Had he not gone through these series of unfortunate events, he would not have been prepared for what was to come. Due to Joseph's unwavering faith and trust in God, He never lost hope. The Bible tells us Joseph was a dreamer; he would often get these prophetic visions, and because of that he eventually became the pharaoh of Egypt. Wait, what? Yes, we are talking about the same man who started as a slave. If that is not a story of a great harvest, then I am not sure what is. God allowed all of these events to happen to Joseph to build his character and his faith in God. Had he not been through these trials he more than likely would have crumbled.  Friends, I believe the same is going to happen to you. God is going to multiply your harvest into something amazing! Why? The reason is because that's the God we serve. He is the God that can take two fish and five loaves of bread and feed the 5000. We serve a God who makes the impossible possible. So friends hold your head up high. God is planting something in you right now that is so beautiful and amazing, but timing is everything. God is never early and never late. Just know an amazing harvest is coming soon, so buckle up my friends. Shannon ❤️ AuthorShannon Romualdi is a Canadian teacher, blogger and content creator. She has a strong desire to make Jesus famous and help Christians discover their confidence and identity solely in Christ. Be sure to follow her on Instagram.  Tags: waiting on God, trusting God, planting season, encouragement, the confident christianCopyright: © 2024 @theconfidentchristian (Shannon Romualdi) / inspiration Michael Todd
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 Hey everyone! I am so happy to introduce you to Erin Ahnfeldt. Erin, the author of this story is a teacher like myself and I am so happy to have him as my first guest blogger. I know his story will really resonate with you and if you would like to read more of Erin's stories please click here.  Photo by Pixabay (Pexels.com) Aoloni stepped into my classroom crying. Her eyes were red, filled with pain, and her cheeks glistened with tears. She was right in front of me before I could think. “Can I go to the bathroom?” she asked. Fourth period was about to start. Students brushed past us, headed to their seats, and I stepped a little closer. “I’m sorry, Aoloni,” I whispered. “Sure. Go ahead.” As quickly as she came, she was gone, disappearing into the river of people. More kids rushed into class, trying to beat the bell, and I turned to my student teacher, Elly. We made eye contact with sad faces, silently acknowledging Aoloni’s tears. The bell rang, and class began. I waited for some quiet and smiled. “Good afternoon students!” I shouted. A few students offered “Good afternoons” or half-hearted smiles. And then Mason muttered with a smirk, “Technically, it’s still morning, Mr. Ahnfeldt.” It was 11:42 am. We were reading Of Mice and Men. Aiden and Kori helped pass out copies to their classmates, and different students took turns reading aloud. We got maybe two pages into it when Aoloni slipped back into the room, still wiping her eyes with toilet paper. A few students watched her sit down, silently feeling her heaviness. We kept reading, and I handed her a book. The class talked about Steinbeck’s use of imagery and did some more reading, but after about 20 minutes, we needed a change. “I’ve got something else I want you to read,” I said. I had skimmed through stacks of my students’ paragraphs, written a couple of weeks before, and found one I liked. Copies of it had been sitting on my desk for a week, waiting for me to finally pass them out. Elly and I blocked out the student’s name when we made the copies, so nobody could identify the author. The problem was I couldn’t even identify the author. I forgot. Passing them out the day before in a different class, Solomon asked me, “Mr. Ahnfeldt, who wrote this?” His bright smile worked at unlocking the hidden truth. “I can’t tell you,” I said, smiling back. It clearly felt to him like some sly evasion, but the truth was I really couldn’t tell him because I didn’t know. The plan was to divide the students into partners and have them talk about why the paragraph was so good. Once the talking started, Elly and I walked around the room. We watched Aoloni closely, and for whatever reason, a little spark twinkled in her eyes. She and Elysia leaned over the paragraph. Then I saw it. Aoloni was smiling!  Photo by javier trueba on Unsplash “Okay, everyone, let’s talk about what you found!” I shouted over the hum of conversation. People looked up at me and started raising their hands. Will’s hand went up first. “Go ahead Will.” “She had some great details to prove her point.” He must’ve guessed, based on the handwriting, the author was a girl. “Good! Yes, she definitely did a great job supporting her points.” There were more hands. I watched to see if students were tracking. Aoloni’s eyes were on me like a cat’s fixed on one of those red laser dots. Kori’s hand was up in the back. “Jump in, Kori,” I said. “I like the way she asks questions to get us thinking.” Aoloni’s smile playfully tumbled into shy giggles. That’s when it hit me—Is this paragraph hers? The thought filled me with wonder. “Great point, Kori!” I shouted, and as I said that, I smiled at Aoloni. She looked down at her desk, trying in vain to hold back the explosion of delight. More hands went up with more life-giving comments, and each time, Aoloni’s face brightened. “I’ll take those paragraphs back,” I shouted. Kids passed up their copies, and with time running out, I looked at Elly and saw a smile growing on her face, too. She walked up to me as students unzipped backpacks. “I think this paragraph is Aoloni’s,” she whispered. I nodded, still reeling from the wonder of it all. “Elly,” I whispered back, “God does this all the time.” I was pointing at the copies of Aoloni’s paragraph still in my hand. “There is no way we could’ve planned this!” My classroom doesn’t have any windows, but that morning it was pretty clear, the real Teacher in room 212 wanted to let in a little sunlight. He wanted to show the student teacher exactly what makes that classroom such a special place.  Photo by Mario von Rotz on Unsplash Leaning on the wood podium in the front of the room, I waited for the zippers and side conversations to stop. With one minute left, there was quiet. “Let’s give a big round of applause for—” I stopped mid-sentence, acting like I was coughing up a lung. “aahhughh. . .Aoloni. . . ahem. . .” Some students laughed, others looked over at Aoloni, but everyone clapped. The room erupted with applause and smiles, and the one smiling brightest was the same girl who, ninety minutes before, walked into room 212 crying. There’s a God who designed a lesson plan I could never create for a young lady whose broken heart mattered to Him. I couldn’t even remember who wrote Aoloni’s paragraph. How could I possibly time a celebration of something she wrote with a storm in her life? There’s no way! But the Author of Aoloni’s story and of mine saw that storm. He put that paragraph in front of me, and He knew the exact day when talking about it would mean the most. It’s obvious. The real Teacher in that classroom isn’t me; it’s Him.
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