Tend Your Own Garden

 

Today I did something important

I weeded my garden.

In past years this would not have been a significant statement. But this year has not been like other years. 

For many reasons I have been unable to make myself spend time outdoors at our home. This is tragic since one of the reasons we bought this home and have considered it a dream home has been because of the outdoor property that came with it. 

In the springtime I was feeling overwhelmed and somewhat depressed; after some loved ones moved very far away, there was strain and sadness for all of us, and in some ways I was not doing very well; but it in other ways I was doing very well. Isn’t that a funny thing? I could be both doing poorly and wonderfully at the same time? We are complex beings.

I felt a little nudge from the Lord to let my garden have a little rest this year and just allow Him to care for it, and for me. I sort of tried to ignore this voice because my garden has always been a restful and happy place for me to spend time. I have a large vegetable garden, and three large square beds, along with some flowerbeds along our buildings. So I went ahead and put in some tomatoes and cucumbers, but the kale that had overwintered came back very healthily, and I realized that the cabbage stems I hadn’t pulled in the fall began to grow new leaves; since I was sensing the direction to just wait on the Lord, I decided to let those grow. The same thing happened with the onions I hadn’t gotten to pull up in the previous fall.  I did plant some lettuces, basil, cucumber, peas and beans. Millie planted some cosmos and I put in a couple of sunflowers from seeds I had saved. Things started to come up; a large portion of the garden remained untouched and weedy but I was running out of time and energy to do more so I let it go.

We live in a high desert with irrigation, so you can imagine water is very important. In very early July, we lost access to the water we have always used for the yard and pasture; we have 2.5 acres and much of that is grass, so we had a little worry since it was the middle of a very hot heat wave but this happens most years and usually the water is turned back on for us within 10 days. This time, though, weeks went by, no water, three weeks, four, and more. Without going into great detail, some choices other people made deprived us of the water we counted on to sustain our cow on pasture and keep our grass from dying. Inquiring into the matter did not bring a resolution and it was pretty much out of our hands for the time being. This was a deep blow and I no longer had much joy spending time outside. Our well can basically run one sprinkler at a time, so we were using one sprinkler for the garden and the rest of the property. Basically I gave up. My heart was very sad. Friends shared their bounty with us and I was both thankful and grieved that I wasn’t in a place to share as well. My garden continued to grow- a lot of weeds, but some good things as well, but the harvest was very slim.

I went outside to the garden today to clean up the bed that I have been trying to make into a perennial cutting garden; I dug my hands into the soil, I pulled and yanked patches of the never-failing weedy grass and shoved my trowel under roots and stems. My nail beds dried out because I have no idea where my garden gloves even are at this point. My hands got crusted with dirt and my knees too. 

As I worked on my hands and knees, my mind, for the first time in months, was silent. Thoughts did not rush at me, through me, attacking my peace. I could actually think a thought, and be still. It is hard to describe exactly, but it was possible to pray in the stillness and meditate. 

And I realized something. 

Gardening is a non-negotiable for me. 

One reason I must spend time in my garden is because I can be still and listen. And I heard a tiny whisper: Tend your own garden. 

Although I don’t yet know exactly all the ways to respond, I do know right now it means I need to maintain focus in caring for the things of beauty that I am directly responsible for. From my little family, to our land, our food, our budget, to my own soul, I must not neglect the place where the lines have fallen for me. Nor may I always be looking longingly into someone else’s garden, but quietly get down to business in my own. 

Each day begins anew with that work. May the Lord grant me His strength to do it.