Six days ye shall labor, the seventh ye shall rest.

Years ago the Priest in Livingston visited my Grandfather and asked him why he didn’t come to mass more often. Grandpa replied he felt closer to God out on a tractor than he did in Church. It has always been strange to me that the Priest accepted his answer and never asked bugged him about it again. (Not that he was on a tractor on Sundays).

 Life has been kind of up in the air recently. It seems to go in waves, you figure one part out and get it settled and something else decides to break loose, get hurt, or jump off a building on a dare. It’s nothing new to anyone breathing, but the uncertainty was bugging me today, so to clear my head I decided to go work in the garden.

I know, I know, it’s Sunday, but one of the best way’s for me to talk to God is to go outside. There’s something about dirt, sunshine and just being outside that’s therapeutic. Add in some sweat and hard work and you have the secret recipe to a health. (Exhibits A and B, Secret Garden and Captains Courageous).

A few days ago I did the first garden cultivation and then watered the area I want to put my plants. (The idea behind this is to soften the soil further down). Now it was time to turn the earth a second time, hopefully going deeper. As I started to sweat in the late afternoon sun, arms aching from previous use, I realized how much I had learned since I’d first put in a garden.

As I’m sure you’ll remember, my first year I was eager and excited; I got my plants, and picked my spot only to realize I’d selected hard-pan  Not to be deterred I soaked the area and started to dig down to make it work. In fine Nicole fashion I decided to do it all in one day, which was fine, except for the fact I didn’t give the soil time to dry out. So instead of turning over nice moist soil, I was digging in mud. It doesn’t work quite so well, the clumps of mud dry into shovel sized, rock hard, dirt clods.

Energy is great, but when it comes to cultivating the soil (cultivating used in all definitions of the word) patience works better.

 I want my issues fixed right now, this instant. I don’t like things to be unresolved and I don’t like discomfort let alone pain. But that’s not the way God always does things. Time is used to build up the soil, time is what’s used for plants to grow, and time is what’s used to nurture life. 

Oh sure there are other things necessary for my garden, sun, water, soil amendments, bug killer, but even those things don’t magically happen or work. (Although water can seem to cause miraculous results).

So I really shouldn’t be surprised when things in life take time. After all God is the Master Gardener.

Thing is, like waiting, cultivating isn’t pleasant. I kept imagining a shovel digging 4 or five inches into my heart and the moist contents being turned over, into the sunshine. That would hurt. Shovels aren’t little. But it has to happen so things can grow.

Nothing grows well in hard-pan  The water and nutrients’ can’t get down deep enough for the roots to push through the cement layers. (Parable of the seeds anyone?)

Anyway, that was the sermonet God preached to me as I was freaking out begging for answers. He didn’t tell me what’s gonna happen next, heck He didn’t even comfort me and say it was all gonna be ok. He just showed me how I’ve grown wise and learned to take time to do the garden right and showed how that’s what’s He’s doing with me, my family, and my church.

I’ll leave you with this parting thought; a footprint can’t be seen on hard-pan  Its impression is only noticed in soft dirt.