|
Welcome to July 2020!
We’re open, our county has finally reached the coveted “Green” status, and slowly, but surely, bits of normalcy are returning. Our world has certainly been turned on its head, and as we slowly begin to right ourselves, we proceed with caution.
And face masks.
These past few months have been a doozy for each and everyone one of us, to say the least.
How are you faring thus far?
The day after our county went Red (on lockdown, quarantined, etc.), our family broke ground on what I quickly deemed our COVID Garden (I remembered reading about “Victory Gardens” during WWII and figured our garden needed a name suitable for the current times; admittedly, “Victory Garden” does have a better ring to it…).
When my flower farmer friend heard about our gardening efforts, she gifted me some of her excess flower seedlings. She told me which was which, but let’s be real, she might as well have been speaking another language because I had no idea what type of flowers matched the names she’d just given me (because if it’s not a daisy, rose, carnation, or hydrangea, I’m at a loss).
All I knew was with a little care, these small green shoots had the potential to bloom into something beautiful, and that was enough for me. I’d always wanted a cutting garden, and these shoots combined with a global shutdown seemed to be just the combo to make that happen.
|
|
|
I wish I could say I knew better what I was doing when it came to my little cutting garden, but in all honesty, it took me over a week to get those seedlings in the ground, and when I did, they were looking a bit worse for wear (ah yes, regular watering probably is recommended). In retrospect, I planted them way too close together, and because I didn’t know what exactly I was planting, I had no idea if they were better off in part shade or full sun (I went with the shady corner simply because I was pretty sure nothing else was planted there yet). Obviously, I make no claims about having a green thumb - not even the faintest shade of green.
Lately, I’ve found myself planting something new, and again, I feel at a loss how to go about it. And just like those seedlings, when I began planting, I wasn’t quite sure what the end result would look like.
Funny thing about planting though, with the passage of time comes increased clarity. With the passage of time, and some watering, blooms begin to emerge.
|
|
|
Over the course of this past month, with racial tensions rising high, with an increased light being shed on prejudice and injustice still running deep in our nation, specifically against our black brothers and sisters, I’ve been grappling with how best to address this, in my own life, and in my interactions with others. My heart is heavy, and as each day passes, I’m learning that the perfect words will most likely never come; that reconciliation and healing will take change of heart and change of action.
There are many seeds to plant and many ways to go about the planting, and quite possibly, a vast variety of blooms to be produced. My garden is still in process, but this time around, I can name the seedlings I’ve found necessary to plant in my own life:
Learning.
Listening.
Praying.
And slowly, but surely, promising buds are breaking through:
|
|
|
Increased awareness, compassion, humility.
I’m learning more and more that it’s up to each us to tend to our gardens, to do the work of planting what is good, even if it’s sometimes messy or uncomfortable or imperfect.
One scripture verse that keeps coming to my mind in the midst of these current times is this:
“‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind; and ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” - Luke 10:27
In looking up this verse just now, I'm reminded of the context. In the verses that follow, Jesus goes on to define who our neighbor is, telling the story of the Good Samaritan who goes out of his way and gives of what he has to help someone who is mistreated, overlooked, and hurting - a man who comes from a vastly different background than his own. The Good Samaritan sees the human dignity in this man, makes himself his neighbor in the process, and through his compassion towards him, loves him as himself.
Love God.
Love your neighbor.
Planting seeds for positive change can start right there, no gardening expertise required.
What exactly will bloom from those seeds? Only time and a whole lot of growth will tell, but I hold on to hope that healing and unity will emerge.
Have you been doing any planting of your own lately? If you have, I’d love to hear about. I’ve learned so much via resources others have shared (via videos, podcasts, movies, books, posts, personal stories…) and want to continue to grow along this journey. If you have ideas or resources that have proved helpful, please share by replying to this email (it’s sent directly to my inbox).
|
|
|
Just last week I cut the first bouquet from my little cutting garden (yes, those seedlings miraculously grew, even in the absence of a green thumb). And as I put those simple blooms in a vase to display their beauty, I realized our garden is due for a new name:
Thinking “Hope Garden” is just the right fit & looking forward to the growth that is yet to come.
With love & hope,
Kari
|
|
|
