I planted a sage bush last summer. It grew immensely and bloomed until winter.
I came home from work and it was gone from the rock where I planted it. My heart sank and I felt like a victim of some terrible crime. It had been replaced by some new fresh flowers...I was angry, but as I looked to the left, I saw my pretty sage bush. Snuggled into the ground, looking quite pretty and in a better place.
What about my sage bush that brought such heartache?
By moving that bush, I felt like I was being replaced. What it was telling me was that moving or changing is good; it reflected back to me what I needed to see.
