Tag Archives: gardening

7 days: and just like that

Yesterday’s post wasn’t meant to be marching orders, but somehow God knew I was going to have a rough night. During the day when my emotions get the best of me, I lay down for a nap to ease my racing thoughts. Generally, naps are a miracle tonic for me providing refreshment, rejuvenation, and a calmer spirit. When people quip about how much I do in a day exhausts them, I always say the secret to my success is taking naps.

Last night had a combination of things go wrong, but the fact that I drank a Coke at eight o’clock probably did not help anything. For me, nighttime is the enemy’s playground. All my worst fears play out as nightmares and my old (looking for joy has really helped curbed this) habit of worrying until I made myself physically sick generally happen under the cloak of darkness. Sadness, fear, worry, doubt, guilt, and second guessing all sneak out from the under the bed or hide behind the closet doors, waiting to pounce once the sun goes down.

In the days following the crash, nightmares would have seemed like child’s play compared to the almost hallucinogenic night terrors we endured every night. I don’t believe in self-medicating, but if there had been some type of coma inducing sleep medicine we could have taken as a family, I would have signed on the dotted line. Personally, I clung to the shortest Bible verse in existence. Jesus wept. John 11:35 (NIV) There were only two things that made sense – we are strong and we will get through this.

Time and time again, friends, family, and sometimes strangers beat the drum to help us rally through tough moments. After turning out the lights last night, the familiar rhythmic beat of love started pounding. Lying in bed, the familiar ding and flashing blue light told me a text message had come in. For more than an hour, I poured my heart out to a friend who knew I needed someone to listen. Her gentle message was one of hope and encouragement not only for me, but also for one of my peeps.

The remainder of the night was spent in fits and spurts of sleep alternated with dichotomous thoughts of staying in bed or just getting up and doing something. It wasn’t sadness and despair, but simply a lot of ruminating thoughts I needed to accomplish. While too much caffeine was also a contributor, I think I just needed time to reflect and talk to God.

After my morning routine, I decided to check my emails, and just like that, God once again nudged someone to reach out and touch my heart. A dear friend who moved to half way around the world wanted me to know that Reed’s light mattered. She had recently reminded me of this in an another message, but this morning I woke up to three pictures she had stumbled across of a magical day that we had spent at her place. In the blink of an eye, I was transported back to the day of gentle blowing breezes, the river light-heartedly lapping at its banks, sunlight dappling through spring green leaves, and air punctuated by a million questions from my children.

Bliss! Pure bliss was the gift she gave me today. Her three snapshots were my modern day gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Reed’s light is shining through her heart too! What a wonderful reminder that God’s word is emphatically true. . .

Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning. Psalm 30:5

The day we made fairy gardens was one of the most magical days!

The day we made fairy gardens was one of the most magical days!

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On this last photo, I can almost hear my Granddaddy whisper from heaven, "Sister, get her hair out of her eyes."

On this last photo, I can almost hear my Granddaddy whisper from heaven, “Sister, get her hair out of her eyes.”

About those weeds

weed

 

Dear kids – On your first day back to school, I missed y’all so much. Our house (although neater) was so quiet that I could hear the sadness echo in my heart. I had meant to write this letter to you long before today, but other blogs, responsibilities, and opportunities for fun took priority. I will never regret that last one, especially.

Although you probably wouldn’t want me to meet any of your friends on the street, none of you seem to mind when I don my old overalls, t-shirt, baseball cap, and garden shoes. You know my destination: the garden! What you didn’t know is it is one of the places on earth where I feel the closest to God. I know it’s hard to believe. I am out there crawling around on my hands and knees, looking like Ouiser Boudreaux, but it’s true! In every growing blossom, crawling bug, and whispering wind, I feel God is showing me how wonderful his creation truly is. When the sun shines down on my shoulders, I close my eyes and pretend he is smiling.

While digging in the dirt, I spend most of my time pulling weeds. Let me tell you I have learned quite a bit about the behavior of weeds over the years. One day this summer, those weeds reminded me of a few valuable lessons. Ones that I hope you learn much earlier than I did.

Some of those pesky plants are so invasive I still seem them after I close my eyes. There will be times that your real life struggles will feel the same way. No matter which way you look, your troubles will be looking right back at you. Times will come where you will only see darkness. I know that you have already experienced some of those times. I wish I could tell you that they were over, and now you have a free pass. But just as weeds pop up in my turnips; so, too will times of troubles come into your lives. Just know that God’s light shines the brightest in the darkest places. Cling. To. That. Truth.

and you will make it through.

When all the green little shoots poke out of the ground, it is really hard to discern weed from vegetable. Even though I have had a garden for years, I just don’t know which one is which. At times, the weeds resemble a produce plant. I will even admit some of them are beautiful in their own way. It isn’t until much later that the pesky thorns and thistles rear their ugliness. I have learned all too hard that the same is true of activities, idols, and sins in my own life. Things that often seem harmless enough in the beginning can spin out of control – fast.  Don’t be seduced in life by the easy way out, the going with the crowd, or the just this one time mentalities. They will let you down – each and every time. We all fall short of God’s glory. Just don’t forget that faith is the first word in our family’s motto.  If the way you spend your time puts that word last, then it is time to make some adjustments.  It. Will. Take. Work.

but you will make it through.

Eventually, it is obvious what plants are keepers and which ones have to go. Then the real struggle begins. Many of the weeds send out deep roots and traversing tendrils that wrap around neighboring plants. When I go to remove them, some of the weeds have chokeholds so strong, good plants are ripped out of the ground. The ugly truth comes when we realize that there are people and obstacles in our lives that do the same thing to us. Sadly, you also know some friends are like gardens, they are meant for a season only. Our nature is to want to help when things are awry, yet God doesn’t call us to fix the world’s brokenness. Only he can do that.   Just like my neglected garden can get, we can have influences and relationships – both good and bad – that bring us down. It is time to take a step back and realign our priorities. If we don’t, the very things we are called to do are left undone. It is a painful thing to walk away from a friendship, from a situation, or from a place of overwhelming suffocation. It. Will. Hurt.

but I promise, you will make it through.  

first day of school

Just like newly tilled soil is ripe with potential; so, too are new school years. This week was just the beginning. Stay strongly rooted in God’s and my love and be grounded in his Word. Try with all your might not to let the weeds of the world prevent you from growing and flourishing. I can’t wait to see what you produce!

I believe in you always –

Momma

 

Hopping down the bunny trail. . . wait, that’s my street!

My husband and I participated in a tawdrily-named event from Memorial Day to 4th of July. Before you envision that this blog has become a tell-all confessional, our activity was the Runner’s World magazine one-mile streak. No, thank you!  We did not run or walk in our birthday suits akin to a Ray Stevens song. Close your eyes, Ethel! In reality, it was much less adventuresome. Every day for that period of time, we completed a mile run/walk.

We had some entertaining moments along the way, but we started to have this eerie feeling that we were being watched. We soon discovered this much needed and coveted time spent together, just the two of us, was nothing of the sort. Little black beady eyes were everywhere. Black eyes attached to long ears and white tails followed our every move.

As birders, we are familiar with the Christmas Bird Count; so if streaking wasn’t scandalous enough, we took to calling our evening outing the “Town Rabbit Count”. On most nights, in our one mile, we would average around 20 furry little “friends”, and I use that term loosely.

Our town has become inundated with members of the Leporidae family. I was worried that streaking was causing my sweetie to have oxygen issues because he was pretty sure that those cottontails were taunting us with threats ranging from devouring all of our Monarda to nibbling our star gazer lilies to nothing. These were not idle threats either as they accomplished those goals with gleeful success.

Instead of this, which is what I planted, I got green stems about an inch tall.

Instead of this, which is what I planted, I got green stems about an inch tall.

A friend has a childhood story where he, his brothers, and a classmate found a baby bunny walking home from school. They came to their grandmother’s house before reaching their own. When they showed their little treasure to the grandma, she asked to see it. What happened next scarred them for quite a while. Let’s just say, baby bunny earned his heavenly reward that day.

I always felt bad for the baby bunny in that story. I have even been known to rescue a few batches in my day, but after hundreds of dollars of plants were devoured overnight – literally, there was a shift in the tide of my thinking. As I sit penning this blog, there are four of the little scamps merrily tra-la-la-ing away in Reed’s memorial garden. Do not mess with a mother’s heart.

This is why our streak times got better and better.

This is why our streak times got better and better.

If our city fathers (and mothers) will not recognize this pervasive problem, I am here to tell ya we’ve got trouble right here in River City. Have they not seen “Night of the Lepus”? Because I have . . . well, a few parts of it. My dad will swear to you that I never walked in one late, turbulent night and saw gigantic bunnies eating buildings. I reminded him about that recently, and he swore no such event ever happened. I think he may be going senile or at the very least trying to cover his tracks. He is a gardener too, and I think he was trying to plant the seeds of what could happen if we were not ever vigilant.

night of the lepus

So while streaking and tabulating counts of taunting members of Bug’s clan, we decided to come up with some options on how to help our fair city rid ourselves of the pests among us. These are listed in no particular order.

  1. In story books, Mr. MacGregor’s place was pretty enticing, perhaps we could come up with a great relocation package, including lifetime ice cream and sporting and fine art tickets. Perhaps that would allow the dear old farmer to move to outskirts of our city. As for replenishing his produce, those of us with gardens would be more than willing to share our bounty. What happens there need never be questioned because you know the old saying, “What happens at MacGregor’s, stays at MacGregor’s”. At least, that’s how I think it goes.
  2. On more than one occasion I have been called the Pied Piper of Children. Perhaps the bunny equivalent exists out there who could woo away the entire fluffle to a land flowing in vegetables.  (Add that one to your vocabulary. Fluffle – an obscure term for a group of rabbits.)They would merrily march hop down the street faster than Pooh’s friend, Rabbit,  would protect his rutabagas. There must be some community (far, far away) that would love them.
  3. Issue live traps along with curbside recycling and garbage receptacles. Provide instructions on how to properly care for the rabbit until pick up. Then rabbits can be relocated to cities that are considering new rabbit project groups for their county 4H. Personally, I think this is a win-win!
  4. Since our fine city has pretty severe leash laws, allow an evening once a month where dogs and cats are allowed to roam free. Now before you think we would be creating a greater problem, this freedom would only be allowed if your pet was spayed or neutered AND registered (think: tax dollar revenue, people). I am not suggesting the pets eat the rabbits, but it might give a few rabbits comeuppance about their nonchalant attitude to spend a night being chased.
  5. Finally our favorite as we are true environmentalists at heart. We recently read an article about how the lynx was once plentiful in our area, but encroaching habitat destruction pushed their territories farther away. Reintroduce the lynx to our county. This could be similar to the reintroduction of the wolf to Yellowstone National Park. We understand that program had some success. We can make no guarantees, but even a lynx has to eat.

We are nothing if not people of action. We feel that we didn’t just complain to city hall about our concern. We asked not what they could do for us. Rather, we have spent our time wisely while streaking (not solely for our physical health either), but I daresay, performing our civic duty brainstorming ways to improve our little town.

Hoping that someday soon, the invasion is much less noticeable. Even though we see them as pests, rabbits do serve a purpose in this world. Until that balance is reached, we may need to buy some more fencing before one stands on his back leg and greets us with, “Eh, what’s up, Doc?” At that point, we may be taking a left turn to Albuquerque.

Note to my dad: I used creative license in this post. I do not believe you are going senile; so, please do not have Mom call me and question my sense of humor.