Lessons on Motherhood from the Mint bush
It was one of those days when everything from the start just went wrong. From waking up early to take one of the twins to the hospital to being yelled at by the public sector nurses… To a puncture on the road, to screaming babies.
The whole week itself was just off. The twins had tonsils and were screaming in pain all day while struggling to sleep at night.
Juggling school, homework, homemaking, going to the clinic several times this week, for vaccines, for family planning, and for sick babies, I was at my wits’ end.
When we finally got home that day, the Holy Spirit quietly directed my attention to the mint growing in my garden. This mint has been growing steadily for almost 3 years.
I planted it on the pathway to the entrance of my home. I walk by it every day to go into my home. It grows steadily, quietly, freely, wholly, through different seasons and weather; it grows.
He drew me to a halt to smell the mint, look at the texture, and touch it. Igniting my senses and slowing my pulse. Breathe in deeply in His presence.
Motherhood can be humbling. Just when you feel like you’ve got a grasp of it, it turns a blind corner.
A baby gets sick. A new growth pattern shows up overnight. You lose your job or income. Lose a friend. A child starts a new grade, or motherhood takes a turn you did not anticipate.
And suddenly, you’re back in the whirlwind again, grasping for air, adjusting, learning, breathing, trying to catch something, anything, stretching all over again.
One thing that constantly reminds me that motherhood is not about perfection is this mint bush.
Mint is the very image of resilience to me. It represents abundance, growth, and quiet strength. This little plant has grown and remained green throughout every season.
No matter what’s thrown at it. No matter the weather. Even when I forget to water it or when I accidentally prune it back too much, the mint just grows and thrives on its own.
And in many ways, it has become a teacher to me in my motherhood journey.
Motherhood can feel a lot like changing seasons: beautiful, overwhelming, exhausting, and full all at once.
Some days feel like flourishing, others like being cut back to nothing. Yet somehow, life continues. You stand tall as a mother.
Mint reminds me that resilience doesn’t ask for perfect conditions.
It bends, adapts, gets trimmed, neglected, and weathered, yet still returns fuller, greener, stronger. Quietly persistent.
What makes this kind of strength powerful is that it doesn’t pretend that the seasons are easy. Growth isn’t always loud or visible.
Sometimes thriving looks like simply continuing to love, nurture, show up, heal, and begin again after difficult days.
Like mint, I have learned that resilience is not about untouched perfection. It is about growing anyway through every season, every pruning, every storm.
Motherhood has shown me that even when I feel worn down, there is still life in me reaching toward the light.
The mint bush has taught me this: you don’t have to look perfect to be growing. You have to keep going.
It also reminds me that I need to be refreshed as a mother, too. 🌿
Even if you don’t have a green thumb, plant mint. It will teach you that growth doesn’t need perfection, and it will reflect resilience just like motherhood.
Cheering you on!
Shalom,
Natasha Chetty,
Following God’s Ways.
