I never feel alone in the garden.
It's almost like I've got a whispering Tutor at my elbow, pointing and teaching my foolish heart about life as I clip, weed, and sow. The Spirit offers bits of wisdom, and if I've got an ear open to hear, then I occasionally learn something.
Weeks ago, I began the task of digging up a big patch of tiger lilies, giving some breathing room to a gasping bunch of iris. I'm a big fan of these vigorous orange perennials. They're bold and sturdy, never need to be watered or hardly even tended. And they never need staking, which I loathe. They do spread though, and that's why I was digging them up. Loads of them went on the trash pile, but the nicer clumps were thrown in a spot of deep shade, under a tree, to wait for a new home. I tried to give them away, but had no takers.
So I forgot all about them.
In the garden a few weeks later, my eye caught this waving stem of buds. Those discarded, unwanted plants thrown to the side--blooming. No water, no soil,
and hardly any sunshine, yet still offering beauty to all.
How many people are that tenacious? Who among us could still bloom in life when dug up and tossed aside? Who, without constant attention--pruning, watering, fertilizing--could still put up a long stem of summery beauty, bringing the Creator glory?
"Be like the tiger lily," whispered my Garden Tutor.
"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed."
I loved this. Your Garden Tutor taught me a lesson, too.
ReplyDeleteI love this! I love tiger lilies and day lilies. Mine grow exactly like yours do ~ they are definitely tenacious!
ReplyDeleteI think the spiritual spin you put on it is wonderful! It sure gave me some (good) food for thought!!
It's a lovely metaphor. I've had old bulbs start to bloom on the compost heap, but never just out in open air. I wonder if you kept them after all...?
ReplyDelete