This year has been a phenomenally fruitful one in the garden. The raspberry canes we got in LIDL two years ago have fulfilled all their promise. Ella and I dug our potatoes up yesterday. There is nothing better.
|St Ella of the Spuds|
We have carrots, parsnips and turnips on the go and will be ready in maybe a month. What's the problem? Well, you see, I find it so hard to remember forwards to these fruitful times when in March and April I am digging the soil and planting the seeds. It seems like nothing happens. Nothing at all. Forever winter and never Christmas. It's all input, all graft, cold Saturday digging, sore back and no payback. I am so, so impatient. I can be heard, teeth gritted, anger-whispering (you parents will know what I mean) to the seedlings " Grow will you, bloody grow!" It seems to take forever for anything to get out of the ground.
|Our thriving caterpillar colony.|
It is such a useful reminder. The feelings of impatience and frustration tell me that I have vacated my own building and am trying to live somewhere else- some future happiness or glory. If I can't be at peace and content in this moment, why do I think I'll be able to do it in the imagined future?
I remind myself to breathe, to wake up to what is around me, to walk slowly, to see God in this time. Slow... down, like a river, slow and deep.
The Father is so patient with me as he gently prises my tight white knuckled fingers, one by one, from the steering wheel of immediate gratification.What a wonderful Gardener He is. Taking his time with me. Seeing the long game, but present with me now, to what needs tending, nourishing, trimming. Always present, in the present, right now..