Spring planting

If our weather ever settles down into spring, I'm planning some changes.

When we bought our home in 2003, one of the first things we noted was that the covered, wrap-around porch is perfect for a swing. Ten years later, that's definitely on the list.

My youngest brother's wife, Lisa, when she first saw pictures of the house exclaimed, "That porch is perfect for hanging baskets!" Although I'm not a fan of hanging baskets, I love flowers and will be hauling all of my planters out of storage, filling them with flowers rich in nature's perfumes. Several years ago Danny found a morning glory growing wild against our neighbor's fence and was so taken with the rich, purple blossoms, we planted seeds that following spring, but the stand struggles in the heat. I plan to take a little more time and a lot more care of it this year, so that any side glimpse Danny is granted is sure to reveal a touch of royalty.

Although my thumbs are anything but green I have great hopes for this flower garden that grows most beautifully in my mind. I hope to create a sheltered place where Danny and I can settle at day's end and for him to enjoy when my days are long and the walls begin to close in.

Gardens take front and center stage this week, as Christians mark the Christ's journey to the cross.

The first garden, in Eden, was the scene of mankind's unsurprising fall from grace. I say unsurprising because when God created man, he did the most surprising thing of all, granting each of us free will. In retrospect, we fellow humans have a hard time understanding Adam and Eve's decision. We read the all-too-brief account in Genesis, imagine that lovely garden, and can't believe anyone could be so short-sighted that they would throw it all away. Yet we, all the while, fail to recognize that we've all made the same decision they made that day in our own lives.

The account is brief. The consequences, however, are far-reaching, touching each of us yet today.

In the Genesis account, God pronounces judgment on his creation, relegating the serpent to the lowest of the low, consigning it to crawl on its belly, eating dust; increasing the birth pangs for the woman and placing her under the rule of her husband; and man still faces a lifetime of painful toil for daily bread.

Fashioning clothing for his created man, God then banishes them (and by extension, us), from the Garden, before they could reach out their hands and "take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever."

Come now to another garden. A sheltered and secluded place where the promise of fragrant blossoms are just now emerging from winter's long rest. See here the man, his face in the dust, crying out against what was, what is, and that which is about to come, because what was, what is, and that which is about to come to him is coming at a high price.

Gardens, wild or well-tended, reveal the seasons of our lives. We spring to life, with all of our days before us, learning and growing, tasting and touching all that life has to offer, both blessings and curses. Our summers are too quickly spent, chasing the dreams common to all men, even as our own children spring up, learning and growing, tasting and touching all that life has to offer. Autumn finds us in the midst of our own harvest, because as is ever true in the lives of men, we reap what we have sown, both blessings and curses. Not only that, but from autumn's perspective, now we can see winter drawing ever closer, when the ground sleeps, covered by winter's blanket of snow, and we know our destiny.

Luke records the Lord's anguish in the garden with the words, "he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground."

Two gardens. The one lost to us at our beginning, the other, obscure and unremarkable except for the prayers offered therein. The one lost to us at our beginning contained the tree of life. The other, perhaps through the watering of sweat that fell like drops of blood, produces the tree of life that lives forever and gives life eternal to all who will reach out, learning and growing, touching and tasting all that eternity has to offer.

"Simon Peter answered him, 'Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.'" John 6:68 (NIV)

I don't have all the answers, but I know and love the One who does. Let's walk in his love and discover him together.

Dawn