For “All people are like grass,
and all their glory is like the flowers of the field;
the grass withers and the flowers fall,
but the word of the Lord endures forever.”  I Peter 1:24-25a (from Isaiah 40)

The green leaves glisten

Painted with water droplets

Iridescent like tiny jewels

The garden a mix of order and chaos

Japanese stone and hanging lanterns

Juxtaposed against English ivy covering every available space

Spilling onto the sidewalk

Pots filled with growing things

Pansies cheerfully fill a flower box

Like young children, all going in different directions

I wonder how it is that a garden can so clearly reflect

The personality of the gardener

Every plant and flower a choice

The wildness and the whimsy

 

I imagine her in the garden

Bending over to avoid stressing her knees

A trowel turning the soil

Watering with the hose during days of drought

Choosing vibrant colors

Welcoming the birds to feed

Adding pots to supplement the too-small space

Stones and wood and concrete forming the border

And I think of how she cultivated us

Her children and then her grandchildren

In much the same way

Watering the soil of our hearts

Choosing joy and laughter

Welcoming in everyone she met

It was never about her

It was always about more

The love she poured into each of us

Understanding we didn’t all need the same thing

The sorrow she has had to endure

Makes me sad for her

As any gardener knows

There are no guarantees when you care for a garden

Growing things are unpredictable

The rocky soil, the weeds, the insects who eat away the leaves

So many things can cause a plant

And a heart

To fail to flourish

And yet a sweet miracle that so much blooms

She trusts the master gardener

The one who brings the sunlight

Provides the soil

And causes the rain to fall

It is in Him she trusts

Not in her own weak hands and aging knees

In the nurturing, she is like Him

And the flowering of each new plant is cause for joy