In The Garden

Today, after doing some writing, I spent most of the day outside playing in the dirt, throwing the ball for Remington while Tex chased him. It is quite a comical sight. On days like this, I often say they’re out here living their best life. 

As I sat in the dirt by my row of raspberries I paused and thought I too am just out here living my best life. I’m sitting here with the sun seeping into my skin, warming my soul. The smell of the fresh earth pungent in the air. Seeing the first leaves start to emerge on my raspberry stalks, there is no where else I would rather be. Ok well I would always love to be on a beach somewhere but other than that, I’m exactly where I want to be. Having the freedom of time to write, as well as get outside and soak up the sunshine is a blessing that I don’t take lightly.

My garden is such a sacred place for me. Spending time working in the dirt, planting flowers, fruits, and vegetables is so rewarding. Especially when they actually grow and produce. I may have killed a plant or two in my years if gardening.

Weeding is very therapeutic to me. I do get tired of it and frustrated that there always seems to be so much to do, but there is something about spending an afternoon weeding, then stepping back to look at your work and seeing the plants almost glow with appreciation.

While I enjoy many aspects of gardening from planning, planting, tending and enjoying the fruits of my labor by either consumption or the sheer beauty of it, that is not the main reason I love to garden. 

Being outside, soaking in the sun, listening to the birds, watching the bumblebees and butterflies all bring a calm to my soul and a smile to my heart, but when I am heading out to my garden, I am intending to spend time with God. He is the reason I enjoy gardening.

Being completely vulnerable in my conversations with Him, my prayers and praises are all a little more sweet in my garden.

Have you ever heard the hymn “He Walks With Me”?  It was written in 1913 by Charles Austin Miles.  I love it and while I am going to share the words here, I would encourage you to look it up and listen, maybe when you have a moment in the sunshine and quietness of being outside.

I come to the garden alone

While the dew is still on the roses

And the voice I hear falling on my ear

The son of God discloses

And he walks with me and he talks with me

And he tells me I am His own

And the joy we share as we tarry there

None other has ever known

He speaks and the sound of His voice

Is so sweet, the birds hush their singing

And the melody that He gave to me

Within my heart is ringing

I’d stay in the garden with Him

Tho the night around me be falling

But He bids me go; through the voice of woe

His voice to me is calling

And He walks with me and He talks with me

And He tells me I am His own

And the joy we share as we tarry there none other has ever known

This summer when the weather is a little more predictable, I plan on setting up a small table and chair in my garden so I can spend some time out there writing as well as playing in the dirt.

I’m curious, do you like to garden or “play in the dirt”? What do you like to grow? I would love to hear from you.