Standing in the Garden

I find myself standing in the garden more these days, not particularly doing anything constructive, though once in a while I do threaten a weed or two with the blade of my hoe . . . mostly I just stand there and admire God's handiwork and watch the birds flit about in the trees. I don't answer the phone, I don't text, I don't check FB, and I do not wonder what else I should be doing. The garden has turned into my technology 'dead-zone' and consequently has become my safe harbor.

More and more, 'days off' at the farm have become farther and fewer between. It's no-one else's fault, I own my work ethic, yet I am beginning also to own my spirit's need for peace, my body's need for rest, and my heart's need to savor the journey. This time between Advent and Pentecost is always something of a maddening period for Pastors, especially for folks like myself who have been raised to believe that idle hands are the devil's workshop, which is only further complicated by being something of an 'A' type personality. There is always more to do, one more person to call, one more committee assignment to finish, one more service to write, one more person to visit, one more meeting to attend . . . and one more day becomes history, lost to the white noise of 'accomplishment'. While in service to God I sacrifice the joy God intends for me to know in life for the satisfaction of believing I can bring the Kingdom in on my own. A sad and not very faithful commentary for a Pastor to write about themselves, but there it is, God help me.

So, this evening I'm going to stand in the garden for a while. I may even move our patio table and chairs near it so I can sit there for a while with a glass of iced tea with lemon, no sugar thank you. If you happen to drive by and want to sit and visit, feel free, but let's just talk about the goodness of God's creation (Lord only knows we can't fix the State of Illinois!) and, there in those moments, treasure what most God wants for all people in laughter, grace, understanding, connectedness and peace.

As the garden heals from the recent hail storm, so it also is becoming a balm to my weathered soul. The vegetables yet to be harvested are already nourishing my deepest longings. I pray you have a garden to stand in, too.