Yesterday I spent some time in my garden and it was so lovely. This is the third year we’ve attempted a garden and the first year I’ve really enjoyed it. I love being outside in the sunshine. I love feeling productive and learning new things. I love reminiscing about planting gardens in my childhood.
And I love the insights and reflections that come into my mind as I work. After placing an old, shriveled potato in my freshly dug hole of dirt, I can’t help thinking, “How does this become a living, thriving plant?”
Then metaphors start growing in my head. Metaphors that compare these little seeds and bulbs to life. And then I think of the parables of Jesus and the analogies of Prophets.
And then I know that only God could create little seeds that push through the dirt to find the light. And to follow the light.
And when my eldest son starts digging in his own plot of land, my heart smiles to know we’re passing on a legacy.
After that, my youngest becomes lonely.
So I ask my eldest to go sing to my youngest.
And the next thing I know, my backyard is filled with the giggles of two little boys.
So I dig and I plant and I contemplate God. While the laughter of my children plays in the background.
And my heart is happy.