gardening | itsawonderfilledlife

Posts Tagged ‘gardening’

Into Each Life a Little Rain

Posted in life, Nature/Creation, Walking with God, WONDER, tagged #ijustwannabeaplant, #iknowthegardener, #intoeachlifealittlerain, #rainandsunshine, gardening on April 29, 2018| 1 Comment »

I enjoyed taking pics of various plants in my garden on Friday, as the warm spring sun shone brightly in the sky. I am certain that my garden never looked better!

Then it rained. It rained Saturday, and it is raining again today.

As I growled under my breath to no one in particular (because all others in the house were still sleeping) about the grey skies and the rain, I scrolled, aimlessly, through my social media feeds.

“It takes both rain and sunshine to grow a garden”

The words (above) caught my attention. Immediately I recalled the images from just two days prior, when the sun was shining.

As a gardener (very much in experimental practise) I could not deny the truth of those words, for, on Friday, I had to water a patch of new grass that appeared quite parched. I watered, knowing that my action was not a bad one, but one that was needed for my garden, and what I had planted there.

So, as a gardener who takes joy in the warm sun, and who understands the need for water for my plants to grow well, why do I fret and sigh and complain when it rains …

why do I fret when there are (metaphoric) rainy days in the various seasons of my life?

I know the gardener, and I trust that he will do what is best for my growth … or do I?

My only job is to grow. He will provide all that I need to accomplish that growth.

May I accept that rain as I do the sunshine.

(PS: the sun just came out)

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A Grandma’s Prayers

Posted in FAMILY, life, WONDER, tagged #agrandmasprayers, #clothesline, Dreams, gardening, Heritage, Prayer on June 7, 2016| 3 Comments »

The planning, preparations and practise began last summer.

My daughter was desiring to have a vegetable garden and a clothesline.

Both desires sounded great, and so we dabbled our toes into the practises of many generations before us.

A rope was tied between our deck post and a tree, and we both utilized the natural drying and whites-bleaching power of the sun.

We made our veggie purchases and planted them in containers and enjoyed harvesting potatoes, veggies and herbs into the fall.

This spring, we have kicked it up a notch.

Pulleys and clotheline were purchased and (this weekend) installed.

A frame was constructed, filled with soil, and vegetables planted.

These ideas, dreamed in my daughter’s imagination, have come to fruition (hopefully literally in regards to the garden), and I stood back, last night, smiled … and thought of one of my grandmothers.

My memories of her were of quilting, baking bread, hanging laundry on the clothesline and gathering food from from the gardens of her generous neighbours … like the gleaners in the Bible.

She was confident and content. She had her opinions, and was not shy in sharing them. She (in her mid 80s) still picked up ‘the old ladies’ on her street so that they could get to church on Sunday mornings. She made the effort to see her kids and grandchildren, never sitting at home, glumly waiting for them to come to her. She loved to sing in her little church choir … even though she sounded like Lucille Ball. She loved to watch Carol Burnett in hysterical laughter. She loved to have her back scratched. She prayed.

After her husband died at a too young age, I remember having sleep-overs with her, in her fresh-air-smelling bedding. Before the light was turned out, she reached for her Bible and her Daily Bread devotional. She would read the verses appointed for that day, followed by the application in the devotional. Then, we would pray, each of us silent. Me, silently waiting for her to give me a good night hug, signifying the end of our silence. She concentrating seriously as her lips moved silently.

Last night I felt her absence, felt the absence of her faithful prayers for my life, for the lives of those I love.

Yet, the fruit of her prayers continue to ripen, in the lives of those who snuggled by her side in her dried-on-the-clothesline sheets, and those who never knew such delights.

May the harvest of those prayers of dedication and trust continue this summer, and may I be as faithful in my silent prayers … that the best dreams come to fruition.

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Bloom Where You are Planted

Posted in WONDER, tagged bloom where you are planted, gardening, hardy plant, Holy Spirit, Rose, sedum on May 15, 2013| 3 Comments »

I am not an expert gardener, but one thing I do know is that most plants have specific needs regarding where they are planted.

Although a dandelion will grow just about anywhere, a rose is more fickle. Sedum will grow in a plastic bag, stuffed in a box, under the deck (true story), but impatience will wilt under direct sun.

Sometimes I am like that fickle rose. I need lots of sun, but not too much, lots of water, but at the right times. If you uproot me, and place me in new soil, I am likely to reject my new soil.

Sedum Autumn Joy 2

I wish I were more like Sedum. Sedum is a hardy plant that will grow in sun or shade, in heat or cool, with lots of water or in dry soil, in a pot or in the ground, in sand or clay. With leaves that hold moisture, it is self sufficient, and thrives when most plants wilt under the hot summer sun. It is the plant you just cannot kill!

In the spring it emerges from the ground in a perfectly formed mound of lovely light green. As it grows it’s leaves darken and white blooms push forth, seeking the light. Then, as summer moves on towards autumn the white flowers change to pink, then salmon, and finally to a deep burgundy before the cold of winter causes the plant to become dormant. Even in the midst of winter, the flowers that remain are a visual distraction from the wilted plants around it.

No matter where you plant Sedum, it will bloom.

I wish I were more like Sedum. I wish that I would grow and thrive and blossom and bloom wherever I am planted. I wish that I could rely only on the sustenance that I was created for, and not continually stretch my roots out for more. I wish that even when all around me is death, I would still stand tall pointed to the sky.

We all have all that we need within our reach. God has granted us His Spirit to dwell within us, and we, like a succulent plant, need only to rest in the assurance that our needs will be met from within, through the thirst-quenching of the Spirit. With the Spirit dwelling in us, we simply have to bloom … right there (right here) where we are planted.

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