There is much healing found in a garden.

Or for me, in planting one. After two years away, my flower beds are desperately in need of tlc; rose bushes are three years overgrown, hosta years too big, mulch 4 years past needing to be replaced, and the lawn has literally grown over where my vegetables onced happily flourished.

Insert weeks upon weeks of hard work.

Last week a local tree company kindly dumped an entire load of wood chips in my driveway, turning it from a 4 car driveway, to an almost 2 car driveway. Insert hours upon hours of shoveling and spreading mulch. I haven’t sweat this much since I moved off of my parents acreage 8 years ago. 

What’s astounding is how much I love, actually love, the work. I love the tiny spears of green that pierce out of wet dirt where I’ve planted. I love working with the plants, I love working in the dirt, I love the beauty of a well tended garden, and the hope that the labor brings. Hope of fruitfulness, hope of the labor being worth it. And as I work I’m constantly thinking about the Lord, how He labors in my life, laboring hopeful of the fruit that will come forth from the tending, trimming, mulching, and planting. He knows how to lead me, knows what branches need to be cut and just how much. He never cuts more than necessary. He never plants where He doesn’t intend to grow. He never removes what is good for me. 

It is good to remember to trust everything that He does. To trust that it is for my good, to trust that it will bring about fruit in me, to trust that I will never look back and regret His working in me. 

A motherly friend stopped by the other day and graciously endured my tour of my freshly mulched beds. Afterwards she left with a, “Hard work is paying off, Christina!” And I couldn’t think of a more true word for both my flower beds, and my own life. The Lord has labored in me, and there will be beautiful fruit. 


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