May 31

Here's something you may not know about me: I really, really enjoy gardening. And by "gardening," I mean sowing tiny seeds, carefully tending the sprouts, and (ideally) harvesting the fruits (or veggies) of my labor. Maybe it's because I grew up with huge gardens, but there's something deeply, soulfully satisfying about being part of that process. In fact, if I hadn't been born during the dead of winter, I'm sure my wish list would be filled with various gardening supplies and sundries.

With that said, this week has been especially exciting because the tiny lima and green bean seeds I planted last week are morphing into plants. I checked this morning and was pleased to see that the first little seedlings had broken through the soil and were primed to turn their heads toward the sun. By evening, I was doubly pleased to see that several had not just emerged from the dirt, but had gone a step further by sprouting tiny, tender leaves.

I could be vain and say "I love growing things" which is, I suppose, true. But what I truly enjoy is seeing God's handiwork on display. I may be the seedlings' caretaker, but I'm not their creator. I can plant them and water them and tend to them, but if God doesn't want them to grow, it won't happen. So for me, watching seeds transform from dried out, dead-looking pellets into beautiful, lush, thoroughly alive and bountifully productive plants is one of the biggest God-things of all time.