Downpour

The downpour continues, both outside and here in crazyville. In both cases, there are occassional sunbreaks that remind me that there are other weather options and that before long, warmer days and sunshine will be the norm. I am so very ready.

The plot of this play that is my life thickened further this weekend. My daddy, who is not yet 66, had a stroke after church on Easter Sunday. He is recovering in ICU. This follows a string of funerals that I have attended over the past few weeks; Like I said, there's been no shortage of rain.

But, this same rain that is causing me to continue wearing scarves, hats, and gloves much later in the season than I would have hoped, is also nourishing all of the pretty things that are planted in the yard. My tulips are almost "ripe" and my Persian buttercups look ready to pop open at any time. I have to believe that once again the natural is mirroring the spiritual and that the garden that is being watered by adversity will also be splendid. I have great faith in the Master gardener.

"For we know that all things work together for the good of those that love the Lord and are called according to his purpose."
Romans 8:28

Movement

March is an aptly named month. It is a time of forward movement. Not only are we leaving the season of greatest darkness and propelling headlong toward long, lush, sun-drenched days, but the entire ecosystem begins bursting forth, displaying what has been achieved in the cold darkness of winter.

In my yard the irises have emerged and stand in perfect formation. They will soon be followed by daffodils, tulips, and alliums. Like a marching band unified in perfect harmony and movement, every bulb, shrub, and tree stays in step with the rhythm set by the drum major.

I said in an post earlier this year that January is hopeful. March brings the unfolding of those hopes. I believe that this season will reveal the much anticipated, glorious bounty that we set our hopes on in the autumn when we planted those bulbs in the mud, in anticipation of spring.

"And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm, and steadfast." 1 Peter 5:10

Twigs

Earlier this spring, I went with a friend to a warehouse shopping club where we picked up some plants for our yards. The plants that I chose were neatly packaged, in a bag with a photo showing how the various species had been coordinated to create a beautiful shade garden.

When I pulled some of the plants out, they looked nothing like the illustrations on the back of the bag. There was no sign of leaves or even a hint of which direction these things should be inserted into the ground. Rather, they resembled dried bundles of twigs coated with sawdust. I planted them anyway. It was purely an act of faith.

A few weeks have passed and I had not seen any sign of life from the plants until today. I was weeding the beds and noticed an unusual looking "weed" that I reluctantly dug up, and immediately recognized as one of my stick bundles. I replanted it and then investigated the others. Sure enough, most of the Astilbes now have tiny leaves. I am thrilled and relieved.

This of course, put me in mind of what is happening with my husband's job search. He has been busy planting and fertilizing but as of yet, there has been no sign of success. Still, just because we can't see anything surfacing, that doesn't mean that deep beneath the surface, the root system of this thing isn't stretching out, maturing, and preparing to burst out of the soil.

"Now, faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."
Hebrews 11:1

Compost

I recently began composting after reading about the many beneficial nutrients that it adds to the soil. Not having a bin, I started small by saving eggshells and coffee grounds in a covered bowl on the kitchen counter. My hope was to eventually invest in a good receptacle. So, as I rounded the corner on my morning walk the other day, I was elated to find a compost bin on the sidewalk with a "free" sign on it. (Thanks, Lord!) Better still, the neighbor who was discarding it emerged and allowed me to move it into her driveway, so that I could continue my walk without fear of it being adopted by someone else.

After I'd planted the container in our yard, I headed online to research exactly how this whole composting thing works. I sometimes wonder if those who write about gardening make a conscious effort to complicate even simple processes; to convince us novices that we are inept to grow so much as a tomato. But, I figure that if my ancestors managed to feed themselves without advanced degrees in agriculture, botany, or horticulture, I can figure out how to layer food scraps and yard debris to make compost. I will keep you posted.

What I've learned so far is that successful composting requires the right mixture of ingredients coupled with the correct temperature, sufficient moisture, and oxygen. It's all scientific. I plan to throw in compostable things, stir them up and hope for the best. I've heard from others that they have been successful with that formula. Like I said, I will keep you posted.

After I got to thinking about the whole concept of compost (how all those scraps mixed together in the right way creates "black gold" coveted by gardeners for what it adds to the soil),
I thought again about how the natural reflects the spiritual. Doesn't God take all of the by- products of our life and mix them together so that "all things work together for the good of us who love Him and are called according to His purpose"? And doesn't He know just how much of each ingredient we need? Doesn't He allow us to be formed in the heat of the furnace, and then rain on us to refresh us? Doesn't He breathe new life into us again and again? And doesn't He know just how much time it takes until the process is complete? I am so grateful that I don't have to understand His formula. Rather, I just have to give Him all of me (past, present, and future) and allow Him to do His work.

Passion flower

A few months after my family moved into the house where we currently reside, a neighbor gave us a passion flower that he had removed from his yard. He explained how he had tried to rid his garden of the plant (as it tended to grow rampantly and take over) but continued to find it growing there. He also assured us that , if we grew it in a container, it would remain manageable. Having a newly constructed home with not much in the way of landscape, I was excited. I planted the vine in a large pot and stationed it where I believed that it would most enhance the garden. It quickly acclimated to its new surroundings and began to grow lush greenery. Over the next few growing seasons, it stretched and crept up the trellis that I had provided for it and I watered and fed the plant looking forward to the promised blossoms. Those never came.

During one of my aforementioned morning walks last summer, I noticed that another neighbor a few blocks over had a passionflower, in full bloom, in their front garden. In addition to the flowers, their vine also had also began to fruit. I was astonished, not realizing prior to that, that obtaining passion fruit in this climate was even a possibility. For the duration of the summer, I continued to faithfully water and feed my vine hoping to one day find a bud developing. But, my much sought after blossom never materialized.

Last fall, when my disappointment had reached its peak, I took aggressive action. I whacked the plant back and moved it to a new location with full sun. I believe that the other spot was too shaded. As beautiful as the green foliage is, I want this plant to exhibit all of the beauty that it was created to. Anything less is a compromise.

In John 15, Jesus states,"I am the vine and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit...if a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me he can do nothing." My experience with gardening deepens this illustration for me. The passion flower vine at present adds nice greenery but is more decorative than purposeful. The flowers would lend additional eye-candy appeal. But fruit would elevate the plant completely from merely being a showy specimen, to a source of nourishment. When God calls us into fellowship and we respond to that call, He does not do so solely for our own benefit. While it is true that we avoid the wages of sin (death and hell), we also are to mature into useful, fruit bearing parts of the vine that feed and nourish with the fruits of spiritual maturity yielded from remaining in "full son."

I really hope that my little passion flower blooms this summer, but more than that, I hope that my life hangs heavy with the Fruits of the Spirit.

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control." Galatians 5:22-23 NIV