My Miracle

You know how some things stay towards the top of your mind and get thought of often? 

Gardening is one of those things for me.  Here’s why.

The last three years (or is it four?!) I have sworn “THIS year, I WILL have a garden!” and I’ve really hated it.  Most of it, anyway.  I would occassionally feel satisfied with something, but for the most part I really, truly, disliked yardwork of all kinds.  Blah.  Yardwork was our A#1 favorite thing to whine and complain and moan and groan and HATE when my parents tried to make us. 

As an adult now, I kept trying because I felt in my heart it’s a useful skill, and part of “provident living” as the Lord would have us live.  Self-reliance and all that jazz.  We have dirt of our own, we should be making it productive.  I’m not going to take the time to find the quotes, but you and I both know they’re out there. 

(Yep!  We have prophets today, just like in the Bible.  They have great things to tell us.  And if you don’t go for quotes-from-prophets, just take a look at the economy and tell me it isn’t a good idea to grow your own food.  Mm-hm.  That’s what I thought.)

I felt -

100% obligated.  100% committed.  100% grudgingly so.

Gotta love that cheery Primary song, “The prophet says to plant a garden, so that’s what we’ll do…”

And so I did.  But not very well.  There was always a pregnant tummy or a newborn baby in the way, either of which don’t make for good gardening.  That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it. 

Last year we started the season off fairly well, thanks to our handy & helpful neighborhood yardworkers-for-hire, and then left the thing completely to itself for a good three months.  The weeds were somewhere around 5 or 6 ft high, in case you were wondering, and a sight to behold.

Each year we tried, we learned a little.  Got a little more fruit for our labors.  Emphasis on little, though.  Last year’s jungle was pretty amazing.  (In case you’re wondering, err on the side of spacing a little too far apart, not the other way around.  Especially where tomatoes are concerned.)

And that brings me to this year. 

Not preggy.  Baby is 5 months old.  Big kids can entertain each other exceptionally well outside.  Early March, and we get phenomenal, beautiful gardening weather. 

I ignore it for a week.

(Lalala, I can’t hear you!)

And it came to pass that I, Anita, sighed unto my Father, FINE, I will go and dig the dirt as the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord sendeth no such perfect weather unto the children of men, save it be for the purpose of letting the kids romp and play while I get these weeds taken care of. 

So with the sun on my face and a breeze on my back, I dug.

And the more I dug, the more I found myself enjoying it.
?!
Yep.  I did.  And not the “pretend to enjoy it” that I did last summer.  Nope, I really liked it.  The next day, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, I did it again.

And enjoyed it even more!  I went to town!  I dug and dug and weeded out my whole garden plot, and then I fertilized it and tilled it and put lovely, light topsoil all over it, and I covered it up in hopes that all those millions of weed-seeds from last year might not come up and take over.  

AND I did it all with a happy little song in my heart and a healthy little spring in my step. 
?!

What’s more,

I found myself disappointed that the afternoon was spent when there were my great big weed-filled garden boxes to be dealt with.

Me!  Disappointed that I couldn’t keep working and digging in my dirt!  The “me” of last year would have thought the “me” of this week had gone stark, raving, totally mad. 

100% proof positive that the Lord can and will change our hearts if we put forth a little effort.  Even half-hearted, grudging effort, apparently, can be turned into joyful, grateful, happy & whole-hearted work.

Did you want to see some more of said handiwork? 

Of course.  No problem.  Happy to oblige.  First, the strawberry terrace that sucked me into this whole yardwork business on Monday.  I dug that plot and filled it (that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it, John) while 5 months preggy with Freedom, so I was determined to finally deal with last year’s weeds.  Lo and behold! there were strawberries under there!  I hadn’t completely killed them off, evidently!  Huzzah for perennials.  How I love them.

Not much to look at, but -believe me- SO much better than it was before.

This is the garden box with the top right corner left unfinished so you can get an idea of what the rest of it used to look like.

Since the picture was taken, I took care of said corner and tilled/fertilized carefully around our tulips.  The tulips we didn’t even know we had until at some point last summer, we saw them in the midst of all the foot-high weeds.  Wow!  Who knew we had tulips in our garden boxes?!  I’ll probably dig them up and place them a little more strategically in the near future… I’m still figuring out what will get planted where.  I’m thinking, wildflower-herb mix in the flower-boxes. 

Anyway,
that’s my miracle of the month, and it happened just in time for a good 6 inches of snow Thursday night.  Whew!  I love the way the weather here in spring is so wild and unpredictable.

Thanks for listening, friends.  I know I can be awfully long-winded at times all the time. 

Here’s hoping this newfound love lasts!