Rejuvenated

The wind is howling as a front is approaching bringing rain and colder temps. Though it was Monday on the calendar, for Dennis and me it was Saturday. Having been on the road for a week, arriving home late Saturday night, we both needed a weekend. Two full days to recalibrate. Yesterday was our Sabbath and Monday was our yard workday, errand day and general miscellaneous whatever needs attention day.

Out the door I went around ten, to beat the storm and do some spring-cleaning. The outside kind. My suitcase is unloaded but my clothes are still in piles. The laundry has not been started and the fridge is empty. Those tasks are calling my name, but I’m ignoring them.

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I needed the rejuvenation of God’s sounds in the wind rustling the trees and the smell of damp earth. While digging holes for the daffodils I’m moving from one location to another, I remembered what Martin Luther reportedly said when asked what he would do if the world was ending tomorrow. “I’d plant my apple tree,” he replied. What he meant is that we cannot not know what tomorrow will bring but we must live today as if tomorrow will come. God didn’t call me or you to live in caves waiting for the world to end.

Investing in the future was what occupied my attention in my gardens. Because I want to see beautiful yellow daffodils from my new south facing windows I must plan and work and be willing to get dirt under my nails. It is not without irony that our fair city it called Little Rock, for our little plot of land is filled with thousands and thousands of little rocks and some that are quite large. So the moving of my bulbs is not without the cost of significant toil to dig out those pebbles and boulders so the hardy but not indestructible bulbs can flourish.

Looking ahead. Planning for the future. Delayed gratification. Many names, but still one spiritual parallel, among many, found in gardening. The effort today was satisfying because I know after the leaves die back in summer I will forget I moved all those bulbs; then in early spring next year I will reap the reward when they show their bright faces skyward when all else is still dormant.

I’m so glad Martin Luther planted his apple tree. On another day I’ll haul off the pile of rocks I unearthed. The rain came before I finished.

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