Life in the Garden

 I grew weary of tending my garden. I am not sure exactly when the shift began, I have loved gardening my entire life. In the garden with Grandma, in the garden with Mom, even with my dad and Grandpa Larry. They were the greatest of times. I was so excited to grow my first garden that I broke up the ground under my kitchen townhouse apartment window and planted flowers and had pots of tomatoes and peppers. My first "big" garden grew in abundance and I learned quickly how many zucchini plants one should NOT plant. Ha. So why would something that once brought such memories and joy bring drudgery and dread to one's life?

The shift. Maybe the weeds one year just got way out of hand. Perhaps one summer and spring just became so busy there was not the time to properly tend to things and it all got out of hand. I know that at one point I determined to do things better for the soil and animals and so forgo sprays and tilling. Boy was I  not ready for that. The cutworms were first, taking over in all manner of places. Then the grubs, and this year the grasshoppers. Two previous years of drought with new trees and many things to water could be exhausting. All of this is valid, but is there more? Gardens are hard work. Could it be that I just was tired of the effort, tired of the too hard? Tired of the low return? Chickens, I forgot to mention the chickens. Last year I had no cucumbers thanks to them thinking they needed to get to them before me before they were big enough to pick. Is there a point where you just throw up your hands?! Oofta. 

I have always been intrigued by gardening and the parallels that one can draw with our lives. Weeds? Oh that sin nature and the irritations that give rise and won't be cast off. Insects? How often do we let the opinions and influences of others in our lives eat away and deter the fruit in our own lives? Drought...oh the drought times are so hard to endure. I didn't only grow weary of tending my garden outside. I have grown weary of tending the garden of my heart. I had grown lazy in letting the weeds of sin and selfishness, all of those fleshly desires and thoughts grow up in my heart. Some I didn't even see. Resentment, bitterness. There they were, growing up with a host of other weeds I had let go unchecked. Anger, disrespect, check, let's pull those up too. Then the drought...somehow the weeds yet survive even if the fruit does not. Pests? Always plenty of outside voices vying for attention. Open social media, but from experience, don't camp there. Dangerous. They will devour everything good. 

And so, here I am. I can see it now. I have become frustrated that the beauty is gone, or struggling to survive. It struggles to bear fruit that makes it profitable and good. Sometimes, though we would prefer a means that is easier and more gentle, the harsher chemicals or processes must be applied to bring about productiveness and fruitfulness. Time. Effort. Pruning. The hard work. I have had to spray for the grasshoppers this year, wowza, it's been years since they have been so prolific. In my heart? Oh, I don't think God will use pesticides per sae, but does he remove often those things that are pulling us away? He does the pruning, shows me the weeds and helps me get control of them. It sure is a process when you can barely see the fruit for the weeds. Both physically and metaphorically. :) I find that I do often find peace there in both as well. And so I will press on, as Paul so often admonishes the believers to do, so that I my reach the goal. I pray you would as well.