To Tend a Garden, Vol. 3

Over the past decade, I’ve written twice about my efforts to make and tend a garden. I say “efforts” because as everyone who keeps a garden knows it is an effortful endeavor and at least for me, about a 70/30 proposition of success to failure. Still I decided to try and become a gardener one fall almost 11 years ago, as a way to honor my Mom and truthfully, as an expression of my very fresh grief.

What started as a solitary and frustrating practice has turned into something far more communal than I could have imagined. The digging and planting and weeding I do alone; well, with my little dog, Pepper for company–she is the same age as that original patch of garden. But the planning, learning patience, and celebrating successes, that’s done with a whole community of mentors, people who are experts at the art of coaxing flowers and vegetables out of the ground and containers and raised beds.

Exchanging plants with my dear friend of 40 years is a feature of nurturing both the garden and the friendship. And my Peace Church family is an endless source of inspiration and encouragement. Digging up pesky vines with the sharp, saw toothed tool Julie gave me becomes an act of prayer. Watching the bees buzz around the native phlox Jaminda shared one Sunday after church reminds me that the fleeting thrill of colorful annuals is nothing compared to the satisfaction of mature perennials that are sturdy and tough and practically take care of themselves. Those perennials will eventually put on a show if you’re patient enough to let them.

And Todd, who answers a breathless stream of questions every time I see him, and always offers encouragement for my fledgling attempts at vegetable gardening. It’s my second year with the raised bed Justin built with our gardener friend, Greg so I could start a bespoke vegetable operation. It’s really just about the tomatoes though. Last year was a dud. Oh, but this year… the tomatoes are coming, thanks to the weather, good luck, stubbornness, and a little help from my friends.

Holy One, Mother Nature and Farmer God,

Thank you for the beauty and the bounty of the Earth. Help me to be a good and grateful steward of everything that grows on the patch of ground I keep.

Amen

Eli is a worship leader at Peace. She’s looking forward to a bumper crop of Chocolate Sprinkles and Yellow Pear cherry tomatoes, as well as Better Boys for sandwiches, and the crown jewel Cherokee Purple heirlooms for slicing and eating fresh off the vine.