In the garden.

This may very well be my favorite time of year.

After months of hurrying in from the cold, the warmth of spring lures me outside.

After many hours spent searching for the lost mitten or hat, I watch with a smile as my kids pile out onto the lawn in swimsuits and flippy flops.

After the short days of winter, I am inspired by the daylight that lasts well past a decent bedtime.


And the garden.


Every year I have had a garden thus far, I have been either expecting a baby or carrying a newborn one in my arms.

Not this year. This year I am surrounded by kids old enough to wield a trowel, to drag the hose, to pull weeds.

And we have been hard at work in the garden.

Weeds removed, soil broken and turned and amended, flowers planted, seeds sown. Water them in the morning, and at night.

Lots of work, but a chore that is wanted around here. Eager hands have helped every step of the way.

Why?

Because these small ones now know the joy of watching seedlings pop through the black dirt. The awe of flowers turning to baby veggies that will ripen and grow seemingly in front of their eyes. And the excitement felt when it is their night to take the garden bowl out to the yard to pick the dinner veggies.

Sometimes the bowl is overflowing, beans, squash, peas, tomatoes.

Sometimes it is a single cuke, waiting to be shared, or a handful of raspberries that never quite make it in the house.


But the kids know the reward, so the work is worth it all.

I couldn't agree more.

Working in the dirt, alongside my children, I have time to talk to them. To listen to them. To learn with them.

We have found toads, slugs, june bugs, pill bugs, centipedes, spiders, worms and butterflies. We have worked together and cooled off in the spray of the hose at the end of the day.


And the hard work makes it even more worth it. I doubt that they would be as into going to the store and buying a cucumber. In fact, I know that wouldn't be a chore fought over.

The garden allows the kids to see with their eyes what faith is.

Faith is believing in something you cannot see.

I have faith that those tiny seeds contain all the makings of my August salad. That the water I sprinkle on them will help them reach their potential.

The garden. Not too different from parenting, if you ask me.

I can only sow the seeds, and provide the sun and water, and the rest is all out of my hands. Faith is what carries me through the rest of the parenting journey.

Seeds are planted daily around here.

You see, we are raising a different breed around this house. An heirloom variety, if you will.

The seeds we plant are those of patience. Those of kindness. Compassion. Humor. Reverence. Obedience. Respect. Knowledge. Christian faith.

The seeds are small. But if we prepare the soil first, and tend to them daily, we will see the results.

If we keep hard at work in the garden that is our family, there will be a harvest more than we could have dreamed of.


God is good.