Day 2--The Act of Gardening--more than pulling weeds

One thing I love and hate about writing is that it forces you to be clear in thought.  What may pass as sensible thought in an impromptu conversation won't stand up under the stark light of the page.  Writing forces thought to its end game for better or worse.

A hibiscus, about to unfurl...

This morning my thoughts feel muddled, like the mountain fog outside the window.  Returning to the Parable of the Wheat and Tares from yesterday, I've spent much time in parables lately.  As an old English major, I can't resist the comparisons and categorizations here---a parable is like a simile, but longer?  A parable is like an allegory but more natural?

Actually, I've come to the conclusion that a parable is distinct, a thing of its own.  One commentary said that it lays the natural world beside the spiritual world and reveals the parallels between the two.

This I like, as it makes sense.  When I am in the garden, that's how my thoughts flow--from scripture to plant, from plant to life, from life to scripture to plant and back again.

In our culture, there is a rift between the scientific and the spiritual communities, but I believe they--like parables--can and should be laid side-by-side. The rift is unnatural. They should not merely "co-exist," but at their best, grant light and inform each other.

After all, if the Lord designed the world (a rather big if I know, for some), it makes sense that such a world would be an expression of His being.  And if you believe (another big if ) that He chooses to express Himself through the Bible or even through Hebrew scriptures, then you can discern that He is a thought-filled, precise kind of God.  He does nothing capriciously or half-way.

So, if you can get beyond the ifs, it rings true to me that He would speak through His creation--through the seeds, plants, rocks, soil, wind, sun, and rains.  It suits Him that these things and how they work would be a larger expression of His character and ways, not just randomly thrown around seeds, plants, and rocks.

a baby nasturtium--tougher than you'd think

My mind goes back and forth between all of this while in the garden.  The acts of turning the soil... sowing a seed...watching it grow...bloom...then mellow into seed---these simple forms and acts bring me to the parallel scriptures over and over again.  The interplay between the two transforms the act of tending and gardening into deeper thing---an act of meditation and prayer.

Now, I must stop here and clarify---not always.  I hesitate to hyper-spiritualize gardening, as sometimes I truly am just pulling weeds, ha!  But there IS a playful interchange between the spiritual and physical that makes gardening--at its best--much more than just pulling weeds.