Lessons from my garden

Reaching out to touch the soft petals of flowering irises in lavender, rose, yellows, blues and snowy white, I hum softly “I come to the garden alone”. Everything around me – the rustling leaves, the scent of newly turned earth, and the warmth of my pet’s attention all assures me that this is a kind of sacred place. Is it any wonder that all my life I’ve loved to be outside nurturing and watch things grow to full beauty? How can anything so compact give off such tremendous perfume?
My son and I build sturdy planters to rise what we call G-d’s garden, in our yard then we picked flats of herbs, flowers and vegetables to show His Glory. Many friends and family have given us cuttings of their treasures to place in G-d’s garden.
I have to kneel to work my hands in the soil but when I do, I feel as if I am doing it onto the L-rd, for all things belong to Him. I am just the caretaker of what He gives me. With the sun at my back and my pets by my side, my hands bury deep in the soil, I felt connected to the things that really matter and my worries evaporate like the morning dew. If you listen carefully all nature can talk to you in that small wispering voice, you just need to watch for the signs of what they need to become all they can be.
No matter where your garden grows, it can enrich your life, as I worked, I felt my heartbeat slow sown, my body relax, my whole being becoming quiet and soften. I seemed to be developing a strong root system for my plants and myself. It keeps you rooted in your values, rituals, traditions; I even name the weeds as I struggle to pull them out. Between this growth and activity, bumblebees and butterflies drift by, and rabbits, squirrels and birds drop in to see what they can find for lunch.
I planted and tended those plants, giving them all the nourishment they needed and in return they nourished me spiritually. I learn to embrace the season for nothing compares to the excitement spring brings as new life comes back exuberantly. Suddenly, my yard is alive with color and fragrance. Yet, not long after they appear, those first flowers wither and it makes me sad, but then happy for by summer, there is new life in other gorgeous plants. Yes, to everything there is a season. We must adapt, grow and change. Instead of lamenting lost and wanting for control of nature, I rejoice in each plant that blooms and grows straight and tall.
Even in winter, when it looks like nothing is happening, life is at work – bulbs storing up energy for next spring, perennials resting, soil breaking down into rich mulch. And as our gardens go through their seasons of change, so too do we, just waiting sometimes to understand the larger purpose in our lives. It will come, as sure as crocuses in the spring.
I might live far from love ones, but I never feel lonely in my garden and walking in the cool of the day with my L-rd. The sadness in my heart at times seemed overwhelming as I unwrapped plants, whose roots and stalks look lifeless, but the Heavenly Gardener instructs me in the principle of life and death and renewal. To my astonishment, they flourish transforming before my very eyes. Digging, snipping, and putting my face into a full-blown rose and breathing deeply. In its rhythms, it offers the closest analogy to the concept of resurrection available to us. Renewal is always in the hand of the Creator of His Garden giving us our own small patch of eternity, well we enjoy each of the four seasons He has given us.