Then stand back. You are about to be embarrassed by how much grows from almost nothing.
Then comes the explosion. In warm weather, mustard grows like a weed possessed. Within weeks, that microscopic seed becomes a shrub, then a small tree, six, eight, ten feet tall. Its broad, crinkled leaves unfurl like green sails. Its yellow flowers—four petals in the shape of a cross—blaze across the garden, humming with bees. By high summer, it is no longer a plant but a presence , a thicket so dense that birds nest in its branches. mustard seeds grow
It begins as an act of defiance against reason. You hold it between thumb and forefinger—a tiny sphere, reddish-brown, no larger than the period at the end of this sentence. It weighs almost nothing. You could sneeze and lose a hundred of them. And yet, Jesus of Nazareth once looked at this speck and said, this is what the kingdom of God is like. Then stand back