Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly,
nor stands in the paths of sinners,
nor sits in the seat of the scornful;
But his delight is in the law of the Lord,
And in His law he meditates day and night.
He shall be like a tree
planted by the rivers of water,
That brings forth its fruit in its season,
Whose leaf also shall not wither;
And whatever he does shall prosper.
Psalms 1:1-3
Ask my mother or my sister or anyone who knows me well, and you will discover that an outdoorswoman I am not. I never have been. When I was young my Mom would literally lock me outside to "get some fresh air." Of course, I'd just find the nearest shady spot to hide in, pull out a book and sit reading until she called me in for the next meal. Being outdoors meant being hot and sweaty or cold and uncomfortable (depending on the season) and almost always itchy. Mosquitoes loved me--still do. Mom must have hated getting me ready to play in the snow. The beauty of the white powder and the squeals of my siblings always seemed to lure me outside for a sled ride, but it only lasted about one trip down the hill. I spent more time getting my winter gear on than I did playing in the snow.
Things didn't change once I reached adulthood. I occasionally helped out with yard work, but only when it was very necessary or when I felt terribly guilty that everyone else was pitching in and I wasn't. It was never something I did "just because." In fact, my husband and I have a mutual agreement. I take care of the inside, and he takes care of the outside. It has served us well for almost 19 years now.
So, you can imagine his surprise when he found me weeding a flower bed a few weeks ago, and you can imagine his even greater surprise when he climbed off his tractor on mowing day to discover that I had not only weeded another flower bed but mulched it as well. In all honesty, though, I don't think he was nearly surprised as I was.
In the weeks since, I have continued to mulch and plant flowers and even mow. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's because our new house has so much outside work that needs to be done, and I am the type of person who wants it done "now." Or perhaps it's because my friend told me that gardening is very therapeutic for her. Perhaps it's because the kids--afraid that they too will be put to work--leave me alone when I am out there, and it's nice to be alone sometimes. I really don't know.
I do know that once I am out there, I actually, kind of, enjoy it. I don't like dirt; so I wear gloves. I hate bugs, and I don't particularly like pulling weeds. Who does? I don't even relish the thought of packing buckets of mulch. I hate raking. So, it's hard to explain. What do I enjoy about it? I like listening to the birds, and I like feeling the sunshine beat down on my back. I enjoy a gentle breeze, and I enjoy seeing something barren become beautiful. But most of all, I think that I enjoy it because it seems, in some small way, to draw me a little closer to God.
After all, when I look at the petunias growing in my front yard or the lush greenery surrounding our small pond, I think about how beautiful the Garden of Eden must have been. When I am pulling weeds and watching them spring up almost as fast, I think of the way in which we must be ever vigilent to ward off sin in our lives. As I anticipate the crop of apples and peaches from our small orchard, I wonder what heavenly fruit will taste like. And when I wrestle with the roots of some ugly green ground cover that my husband and I are trying to get rid of, I think about the importance of having Godly roots that are deep and strong and immovable.
One particularly valuable lesson that God is trying to teach me right now in several areas of my life is the age-old "slow and steady wins the race." He is constantly reminding me of this as I try to memorize scripture, and my brain doesn't seem to work as quickly as it once did. Or as I try to lose weight, and the pounds seems to stick like superglue. So, too, He has reminded me as I impatiently wait for the flowers I have planted to bloom and grow and spread. I have worked so hard, and yet I have seen so little progress. But I know that growth is occurring, even when it isn't visible.
It reminds me of a children's song I love. It says God's "still working on me, to make me what I ought to be. It took Him just a week to make the moon and the stars, the sun and the earth and Jupitor and Mars. How loving and patient He must be, 'cause He's still working on me."
The Master Gardener is working to grow me into His image. Emilie Barnes once said, "Growth takes time. Be patient. And while you're waiting, pull a weed." I think that applies to more than just gardening.
I don't think that I can claim to have a "green thumb" just yet. But maybe, just maybe, it's light green. And I do believe that gardening is beginning to grow on me.