LESSONS IN THE GARDEN 7

COOLER TIMES

 It's fall-that time when the colors are more vibrant, the sky bluer and the air fresher.  There are some pretty scraggly plants in my garden from the Texas heat of July and August.  The weeds are out of control because it got too hot to do much about them.  But the joy of the fall garden is the deep purples and blues and bright yellows of the berries and flowers, and the cooler day and brighter skies.  Somehow even the moon seems happier.

There is always a fall at the end of an intense, hot summer.  

LESSONS IN THE GARDEN 6

   CELEBRATING MORE THAN A BIRTHDAY

This week marks another Birthday in our family.  But unlike the previous ones, we do not remember the day of the birth-there isn't any trying to remember what the exact time was or who came to the hospital.  This time we have only the gratitude that she was born at all, and that our precious daughter and son (in law) were willing to listen to that still small voice-the one that whispers His love into our hearts.  And having heard-obeyed.

As I wonder through my little garden, I admire some of the fall foliage that returns each year, reminding me of those who have given me cuttings and seeds from their own gardens. My wonderful mother in law-the queen of the green thumb- has provided me with more cuttings, seeds, hints and encouragement than I can count. And it's nice that I will have a piece of her in my garden always.   Oddly, I no longer remember exactly who or where some of my "transplants"  came from- though I try.  They have become so much a part of MY garden, that their origin doesn't matter.

And Marisol Elizabeth is so much a part of our hearts, her origin of birth is irrelevant.

LESSONS IN THE GARDEN 5

 STOP AND....

It takes a lot of work to create a "natural" garden.  If it looks too natural, it's what my daughter once referred to as my "jungle."  If it's too orderly, it doesn't fit into the kind of natural, meadow feel I love.  It's a sort of plant this and that, add a few of these, and pull up what doesn't work approach-my artistic outlet.
Sometimes, as in all areas of my life, I forget to pause.  I pull weeds, trim a few things, water, move, sort, mulch, gather, share and generally wear myself out with all of this fun.

But it's in the pause that joy comes. 

LESSONS IN THE GARDEN 4

ONE WOMAN'S WEED....


Pulling weeds is not my idea of fun.  But it is therapeutic.  Very.  There are many hurt feelings, looks, sighs, and frustrations that have died a slow death in a weed pile in my yard.  And I was healthier for it.  Besides...it's better than driving to a gym and working out next to some tiny thing in a pink leotard.

But what one person considers a weed, another may consider a treasure.  The ground cover here, called Frog Fruit (I have no idea why) is listed as a weed in some books.  It grows wild, spreads easily and needs very little water.  So for me, it is a nice addition to a xeriscaped side yard. It has tiny little white flowers that kind of just show up sometimes; uninvited.  They ask for nothing-no water, no mulch, no special raised bed.  They just bloom when the plant is left to grow as it was intended.

Sometimes I think we want to weed out people that don't fit into our landscape.  They aren't as pretty as the roses nor do they stand proud like the gladiolas.  They don't want the environment  we think they need -instead they prefer their own (rather odd to us) surroundings.  What if we encouraged  them to grow as they were intended, rather than as we wished?  

THIRTY-ONE YEARS

This week our son, Christopher Michael turned 31.  In another country.  Across the ocean.  In another language.  The day before his actual US birthday.  
  
How does  a Mom reconcile the distance-when a phone call is not so simple?  When typhoons powerful enough to make national news are an all too frequent event in his new home ("they're not that big of a deal").   When family gatherings are minus one.  When three little girls are growing so fast-and he is missing the daily changes?

She remembers-treasures pictures, art work, bits of conversation that remain nestled in the special parts of her brain and heart labeled "Forever Mine."  And Skype becomes the new normal.

I love you, Chris

Lesson 3

LESSONS IN THE GARDEN

Companion Planting

For centuries gardeners have used companion planting-the idea that certain plants, when planted near one another, thrive.  The Native Americans sowed the "three sisters" together-maze(corn) grew alongside pole beans, using them as a sort of trellis to climb on.  The beans in turn, enriched the soil with nitrogen. Squash was a sort of ground cover that helped keep the roots shaded and moist. In some areas sunflowers were planted a little distance away to attract aphids away from the other crops.  

One of the joys of the garden is watching things work together.  I let a group of weeds grow naturally in the back of one of my small beds.  The grasshoppers love it and seem to forget about my more attractive plants.

I am blessed to be growing alongside the companion I married.  He holds me up when I am weak, nurtures me when I am hungry and shelters me from the storms.  We often find ourselves so "trellised" together than it is difficult to tell where one begins and one ends.  And together we flourish.

 

LESSONS LEARNED IN THE GARDEN

In the garden  things wait-the plants wait for water, the butterflies wait for blooms, the birds wait for worms.  

During the hot Texas summer when rains are rare, my roses divert the nutrients and water to feed the essentials-the roots and base of the plant.  They stop working on things they can afford to lose-the pretty things.  And as they wait, they are neither lovely nor inviting, but they are healthy.

In our dry seasons, we would do well to conserve our energies for the essentials.  And to wait for rain.

But they who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary.  They shall walk and not faint.  (Isaiah 40:31)

 SPIRITUAL LESSONS LEARNED IN THE GARDEN

 

 

 

September 9, 2012

It occurs to me  that life beginning in a garden was no accident. Whether allegorical or literal, the story is one of deliberate creativity-of intentional planning.  That man came from the earth causes me to smile-my husband and son being formed from "dirt"...... It also causes me pause-to wonder silently, and reverently before my creator.

The man and woman were given everything in their garden, save one tree. They were lavished with fruit to eat, aromas to savor and beauty to behold. They also  were given responsibility-to care for their home, to nurture, to feed and to enjoy what lay before them. And the Lord walked with them there.

The significance of this last thought has comforted me during many a lonely time--and as I walked in my garden, I beckoned Him walk with me too.  And He has.