Just finished tending to my seedlings. Then sat down to read this poem. Tears came to my eyes as I remember cleaning up after my mother, very demented and lost, currently living with us. Thank you for connecting my gardening, which is a very real escape from caring for my elderly mother, which is a labor of love for what seems like a devotion for what is lost.
What a beautiful, hard story, dear friend! Thank you so much for sharing that with me. I hope you continue to find things that help you feel seen, even in invisible works. ❤️🩹
I love this so much. What a beautiful piece—its cadence and quiet depth just bring out the message so poignantly. The division of the lines is so thoughtful and slowed me down to really let the words sink in. This poem really blessed me, thank you.
Beautiful. Yes so much of being with people in hope and ministry is patient expectation, waiting for growth out of the darkness that may or may not appear...
“Devoting ourselves to what may be lost is perhaps the bravest thing we do.” I relate to this on many levels, including gardening! It is out of our control to determine weather or the unpredictable ways of plants (and of people). I always find myself rejoicing that the bulbs are actually coming up once again! It’s a good practice in relinquishing control, waiting, and trusting what’s unseen.
This is why I love gardening so much because it reaffirms the energy of the soul and the rebirth into something new that permeates all of nature and grace.
Your imagery is beautiful! I could relate to every well chosen word and thought, especially as I am waiting for my own seeds to sprout.
Thank you so much, Debi! ❤️ So glad it resonated and honored to wait with you for those first signs of life.
Just finished tending to my seedlings. Then sat down to read this poem. Tears came to my eyes as I remember cleaning up after my mother, very demented and lost, currently living with us. Thank you for connecting my gardening, which is a very real escape from caring for my elderly mother, which is a labor of love for what seems like a devotion for what is lost.
What a beautiful, hard story, dear friend! Thank you so much for sharing that with me. I hope you continue to find things that help you feel seen, even in invisible works. ❤️🩹
a sweet solace for one with terminal illness,
Dear sister, I hope you can feel God holding you and my long distance bear hug, too.
I love this so much. What a beautiful piece—its cadence and quiet depth just bring out the message so poignantly. The division of the lines is so thoughtful and slowed me down to really let the words sink in. This poem really blessed me, thank you.
Thank you so much, friend. 😌 I’m so glad it resonated with you, Kristi!
What a fantastic image. So many rich words. The one of the sun callusing the earth is just perfect. Powerful, Sarah!
Thank you, Loren! 🫶
Yessssss Sarah! 🫰🏼
I love this.
Thank you, Jen!! 😌
Beautiful. Yes so much of being with people in hope and ministry is patient expectation, waiting for growth out of the darkness that may or may not appear...
Amen, Faith!
Beautiful
Thank you, Donya!!
Wonderful, wonderful work.
Thank you, Tyler!
Wonderful!
Thank you so much, Christine!
“Devoting ourselves to what may be lost is perhaps the bravest thing we do.” I relate to this on many levels, including gardening! It is out of our control to determine weather or the unpredictable ways of plants (and of people). I always find myself rejoicing that the bulbs are actually coming up once again! It’s a good practice in relinquishing control, waiting, and trusting what’s unseen.
Amen, Liz! I am so glad that it resonated.
Goodness gracious. Thank you, Sarah.
Thank you so much for reading, Katy! I’m glad it resonated with you.
Powerful,loved the imagery of new birth, resurrection
Thank you so much, Diane!
This is why I love gardening so much because it reaffirms the energy of the soul and the rebirth into something new that permeates all of nature and grace.
I couldn’t agree more! I feel like I always learn something new about God every day that I’m in the garden.
Beautiful meditation.
Thank you, Mark!
Amen.