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Dear Sister,
I know that the above
picture will slow the loading process, but I thought it was
quite beautiful and illustrative of the blessings of this
season. My garden looks nothing like this yet... lots of black
dirt with the odd thistle popping through, the occasional bolted
herb (Russian sage, chamomile, mint, chives, spring onions), and
the greenery of bedding plants that I couldn't resist buying
(geraniums, hollyhocks, lavender, rosemary) mixed in with a few
blossoming shrubs and the like. The formality and grace of the
picture reminds me of my Grandma Rempel's flower beds on their
farm at Cherry Ridge. Grandma and her family were very much
into "horticulture". Her brother, Uncle Sam, had a garden party
each summer in his yard in Burnaby, B.C. and would introduce
each of his lovingly tended dahlias by name. I rely upon my Dad
to come over and give me some tips. Tomorrow he and I are
planning a trip to the Agriculture building at the University
where we hope to walk through the "clouds of apple blossoms"
that press up against the skywalk. I hope we aren't too late!
Ed just came home from the
river bank where he apprehended
three large rocks for the flower bed below the kitchen where a
peony and some lilies live. The lilies (and the sebum in
another garden) are passed along from my friend, Linda, who, in
first grade, told me that she like me better than anyone in the
world. "Even your parents?" I asked, shocked, and I remember
that she nodded 'yes'. I know that many others have replaced me
in her estimation now, but I treasure the lilies. A former
workmate, Angela, gave me irises that grow profusely under our
bedroom window, and another workmate, Joanne, once dug up
chives, and I am now passing some of their stock on to others.
The history of a garden is often very personal.
I find in gardening a
time for reflection, planning, and prayer. The combination of
fresh air, sunshine and the homeostatic soil organisms (read
"The Maker's Diet") conspire to erase the usual repetitive
negative thoughts that clog up my mind when I'm stuck in traffic
or listening to a litany of complaints over the phone. Birdsong
and bug activity divert me in a way that a recording by the
day's greatest diva never could. I feel much more balanced when
I've come in from my morning's foray with the hose or hoe.
Our son tells us that his
wife, Malyn, is a "skilled planter" and looks forward to trying
her hand at gardening in Canada, probably as soon as next
Spring. I'm excited to think about the possibility of weaving
our family gardening backgrounds together in new synergistic
ways.
Gardens and allusions to
gardening figure prominently in Holy Scripture. Human life on
Earth began in a garden, and when Jesus seeks closeness with his
Father, he goes to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray and
meditate. Indeed, he is found in that garden and hauled to his
death from there. John tells us that when Jesus appeared to
Mary Magdalene, she mistook him for "the gardener" (20:15).
Although we know that we live in a great City, we also know that
this City will contain a river flowing from the throne and
watering the Tree of Life (Revelation 22:1,2). This will be a
garden where there will be no more dirty fingernails, blisters,
or sunburn-- just the sheer joy of being in the garden of God.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Angel
Co-op needs your contributions to continue. We
are looking for (1)testimonials (up to 500 words: what God has
done in your life); (2)book reports: any spiritually uplifting
book you have read recently (up to 500 words); (3)other
contributions: would you like to take a turn with the
newsletter? Do you have WM events or activities that you wish
to describe so that other WM groups can replicate your
successes? Please let me know before June 1st what contribution
you are able/willing to make! Thank you! And God bless you,
Cynthia |
