Long time no typ-Y. Or typ-IE. Or typ-EY.
Recently, some one inquired after my seemingly silent presence on the blog for the last month.
"Are the culture wars too overwhelming for you?" "Are you formulating your response?" "Are you about to make a big announcement?"
I giggled inside.
Actually...... my children are at home. Every writing cell in my brain has been dead on the bottom of the fish tank since the summer bell rang and the monkeys came home. Every sane thought has washed out to sea. Question fatigue, in a Pac-Man like manner, has eaten all the neurons in my brain. Every day our need for Jesus and August grows exponentially.
It's so crazy, for ten years we spent every day, all day together. But when the great need for natural space and healthy margins were an absolute, we all learned to function with a larger bumper in our lives. So.....when you throw us all back together for endless days and weeks, we begin to rub each other raw. We are beyond nap times, early bed times and quiet times. But in exchange, I get to sleep in every morning, I have the option to go for a walk or run an errand BY MYSELF, and we can hang out late into the evening at a friends house with no remorse of people missing their bed time. All in all, it's a pretty sweet exchange. But it's been A LOT of togetherness. I'm the mom that always cries on the first day of school, and the first day of the second semester. I honestly enjoy having my kids at home, I really do! But I also enjoy the natural and healthy space we gain when school starts.
We've had a good mixture of busy and bored this summer. Just how I like it. My kids work endlessly during the school year, so I love for them to actually get to unwind and be still for so long, they bottom out in boredom.
One of the BEST things we have done this summer, is grow our very FIRST garden. After 12 years of motherhood, I felt like I finally had the mental and physical energy to oversee another living creature besides my own four, small children. So Mama with wee ones, NO GUILT because you have no garden plot outside in your back yard. NO GUILT, because you can hardly see straight just keeping up with feeding your mini-me around the clock. NO GUILT, over stuffing your face with french fries and chicken nuggets... I've SO been there, and I am harvesting vegetables especially with you in mind. Your time will come and you too can join the garden club. :)
Any who!
I wanted a small garden with 6 items. Because Mark and I are garden virgins, I wanted something small and manageable.... Ok, ok, controllable. Enter Mark. 22 items later, we have an out of control jungle. But oh my, we are having a complete BLAST!
(Isn't that gardener sexy in that straw hat? And his little helper is just too much! :)
The garden has been sweet therapy for the soul. Pruning, pulling, tending, nourishing, and picking. All good processes as you process. And we've had some stuff to process, yeah?! When I'm in the garden smelling dirt, pulling harmful weeds, killing squash bugs, standing in awe over the fact we actually produced a crop, eating tomatoes from the vine, and dancing in delight over the cutest watermelon baby you've ever beheld; God is so near to the weary places threatening to consume.
And we all have weary places, yeah?! There is no doubt in my mind now why God placed Adam and Eve in a garden, and birthed His intimate relationship with them amongst the zucchinis and lilies. It comes full circle for me, when I contemplate the hallowed garden ground He bleed upon when He honored His father and drank the cup of suffering, and then again when He crushes death and His resurrected body take its first steps onto the soil of a garden. God has a long history of dwelling in garden spaces.
At each sign of precious garden life, we've celebrated. I mean, for real. When the first seed sprouted and pushed up through the earth, we jumped with joy. And I have a fierce fight in me, when I see the tiniest squash bug trying to destroy my handi-work. I'm all, "DEATH! DEATH TO YOU, SQUASH BUG!" Then I dance again when the enemy is overcome with dish soap and water. VICTORY for the gardener. Y'all, I'm dancing over onion seeds and pepper plants. I cannot imagine how my Savior dances over me; a soul. A soul made, copy and paste, of His soul. He keeps a tender and watchful eye on me at all times. He dances when I bare up under the weight of this dry and parched land, and He rejoices, as He and He alone, infuses me with the power to overcome the bondage of sin and death.
We serve a great, attentive and kind gardener. He knows His crops, and He knows the enemy of His seed. He remains faithful, tried and true. He knows His land and has promised to tend to His crop until the fruition of His plan has blossomed. His way is not thwarted by storms or droughts. He is not overwhelmed by bugs and floods. He gently paces His perfectly planted rows and speaks joy and wonder over them. He calls to them to grow up from under the darkness of the dirt. He calls them to LIFE. Real, unashamed LIFE!
I'm more in love with my Gardener today, than ever before!
Happy Gardening!
~Sara
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