A Time To Reap

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

"A time to sow and a time to reap. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to tear down and a time to build up. A time to cry and a time to laugh."

     The time has finally come. After all that planting, weeding, watering, and tending, the crops are ready. Farmers and backyard garden enthusiasts are bringing in the harvest. The squashes and pumpkins add fall-like colors to the stalls at the outdoor markets, the apples are bright and juicy, and the desire to create wonderful things with these treasures looms large. There is canning, preserving, cooking and freezing to be done to carry us through the long, cold days of winter when we dream of spring and starting the process all over again. We remember what worked and what didn't, what bore fruit and what didn't, and we take what we've learned into the next planting season a little older and a little wiser.

     The older I get, the more I like to think back on my life experiences in the same way. I can remember seeds I sowed for home, family, career, and dreams galore, some of which brought great gifts, and some which didn't make it. Some took longer than others, while some had to be replanted in a better place, in healthier soil, and tended with more love and attention. Some took decades. Today, as I sit here looking out of the windows of my new little home at the glorious leaves still gracing our trees, I can honestly say that I am wiser for having had those experiences. The seeds that succeeded were the ones I was meant to harvest. Those that didn't were never mine to begin with. I was just trying to grow into what others expected me to be. It might have taken over 40 years to find the right soil, in the right place, to plant my seeds in, but it was well worth the wait. I told my mother when I was five years old that I was going to be a writer. Sixty years later those seeds finally took hold and brought forth fruit. Am I sorry it took so long? Sure. Am I still happy anyway? You bet. Better late than never. Some seeds, like dreams, take a little longer to harvest. 

And so it is. 

And A New Season Begins

I was beginning to think that Autumn would never get here. The 80+ degree temperatures continued well into September. Then one morning I woke up to a crisp, slightly chilly but sunny morning and saw the first leaves beginning to turn from green to the golden fall colors I love so well. Ah, finally, the new season begins.

A new season has begun in my own life as well. After a long summer of renovations, sorting, purging, packing and thinking it would never all get done, here I am safe and sound established in my tiny house built with love by my family and friends for me to be my forever home. Actually, it's a house-within-a-house, an add on to a duplex. Whatever it is, it's mine, the home I have wanted for years. I can look out of the windows and see trees, grass, and hills instead of concrete. I can hear crickets at night instead of constant traffic noises, and, most of all, a porch to sit on to watch the leaves change and float gently to the ground (and, yes, I love the idea of raking leaves this year). 

Our lives go through seasons just as in nature: the seasons of childhood, adulthood, parenthood, and, as I like to call it, our Third Age. At some point we reach a time when we need to put down our roots for good and just live out our lives one day at a time. No more transplanting ourselves from home to home, job to job, lifestyle to lifestyle. That is where I am now and I couldn't be happier. I wake up every morning to the sounds of my family getting ready for the day next door instead of hearing neighbors slamming doors and turning up the volume on their car radios. I sit with my morning coffee and daily devotionals until I feel ready to start my day. The family dog hears me stirring and sits outside my door crying until I let him in to say good morning ... I have a dog to share! After years and years of raising cats, I have a big hulk of doggy love. P.S. If I feel myself having a bout of kitty withdrawal, I can go next door to my granddaughter's side of the building and love up her three feline children ... see, it's one big family from one end to the other.

The seasons outside my window may come and go, but the seasons inside will remain the same from this day forward. Sure, I'll change the decor from fall, to winter, to spring, and back to fall, but in my heart it will always be that beautiful Autumn morning when my dreams came true and my forever tiny home burst into color. Be it ever so humble (and small), there's no place like home.

And so it is. 

Water, Weed, Pray

I can't remember a summer that was as hot and stormy as this one, and that's saying a lot seeing as I'm coming up on my 75th birthday next week. My heart goes out to people who have gardens in their yards, or in containers on their porch, and especially to the local farmers who are working hard to keep their crops growing and healthy. With each heat wave and each storm, the need to water, weed, and pray gets more and more important. It's not like they can just give up and let the vegetables take care of themselves. They created the gardens, and it's there responsibility to maintain and care for them.

The older I get, the more this analogy speaks to not only our outer gardens, but our inner gardens as well. When our inner wells run dry, when the heat of anger, frustration, challenges, and the state of the world wear us out, we need to find a way to water our spirits and cool down. No rational decision or action can take place if we don't. We need to weed out the negativity that influences our lives and feed only those beliefs that nourish us. The stronger we get in body, mind, and spirit, the stronger our lives, our community, and our world will be. 

Let's face it: there are plenty of storms ahead for all of us this year. It's not only the weather outside, but the weather inside that will challenge us in the coming months. There is no place for violence, hatred, or looking down and excluding others. These are the weeds of humanity that need to be pulled. In their place, let us feed ourselves with love, kindness, compassion, service, and responsibility. Above all, let's all pray, in whatever way and in whatever tradition works for you, that what we harvest this fall will be the best, the healthiest, and the most nutritious life we can grow. It's not only for us that we plant and tend this garden, it is for our children, our grandchildren, and the generations to come. What we sow today will be their harvest tomorrow.

And so it is. 

Endings And Beginnings

 

There are so many things going on in my life and the life of my family this month. So many endings and beginnings.  The older I get, the more I have to remind myself that there are just as many beginnings as endings if we look hard enough with an open heart.

My youngest granddaughter graduates high school this month. It seems like only yesterday we were watching "Big Comfy Couch" on PBS together and playing with dolls. She will start college in the fall, majoring in Culinary Arts. She wants to be a chef. Endings and beginnings.

My great-grandson, age 10, had his moving up ceremony yesterday. He is leaving elementary school behind and moving up to middle school. One day he is sitting at the table with me crafting and painting, the next his is sitting at the table beating me in chess! Endings and beginnings.

My #2 grandson, who will be 22 next month, just bought a house with his partner and is starting a new job. His older brother, who will be 25 next month, is all settled in, engaged, and has his own office at work. Wasn't it just yesterday that the 22 year old was 7 and taking me for a walk in the woods, showing me which "poop" belonged to which animal? And the 25 year old was sitting on the floor, rolling over in laughter over the Dancing Tigger I bought him? Endings and beginnings.

So, what about me? What are my endings and beginnings? I guess that's for me to decide. A change of residence? A new challenge? I heard a wise man say that if you don't like what you're growing, plant new seeds. Maybe it's time for me, and for all of us, to pull out those weeds, those beliefs and habits that no longer serve us, and plant some new ones. A seed will grow if it's planted in the right soil, gets the right light, and is watered regularly. And, of course, is fed with lots and lots of love.

And so it is. 

Ask, And Ye Shall Receive

Even though I love tending my little tabletop garden, I can't help but remember all the enjoyment I got from my big garden years ago. I even loved going out there early in the morning while the dew was still on the ground to weed as the birds sang the day awake. If I sat very still for a while, my little bunny neighbors would venture out to nibble at the edges of the vegetable plot. I wasn't the type of gardener who had a fit when a rabbit, or a squirrel, or other critter helped themselves to a little nibble here and there. I was only growing food for myself. It was Mother Nature's gift to me, so I passed the gift on to others.

Now I have a chance to do that again. Our church has rented two raised garden beds at a local urban garden site created and managed by VINES, an organization that creates urban gardens for those who don't have access to fresh, organic produce or the means to grow it for themselves. Our plots will be used to grow food that will be used at Shepherd's Supper, a free, weekly meal made and served to anyone and everyone in the community who needs a good, hot meal. We've been doing it for years and our numbers have grown, especially since COVID. What started out as a sit-down meal for 50 or 60 has grown into a take-out only meal for close to 300. Even with donations from CHOW and other places, plus our own tight budget, fresh produce would be lovely. In addition, what we don't use will be make available to anyone who can use it.

I suppose I should be used to having my prayers answered in unusual ways by now,  but when it happens, it always surprises and delights me. I wished for a garden I could play in again and share with others. Before it was just with my animal neighbors. Now it will be with my human neighbors as well. I can play in the dirt again, weed, water, and listen to the birds sing the day awake again. Ask, and Ye shall receive. Absolutely!

And so it is. 

And So It Begins

Right now the wind is blowing like crazy outside with Wind Warnings up all over the place for 50+MPH gusts. The bright blue sky and sunshine is a cruel trick that Mother Nature is playing on us, trying to convince us that Spring is almost here. Well, it may be a blustery day outside, but inside I am making a leap of faith that Spring truly is almost here ... I am starting my seeds.

Now, I know that experience and logic tells me that here in the northeast it isn't prudent to set seeds until at least April since crazy March can still hit us with snow storms and frigid temperatures. Yet this year my heart is telling me to pull out my mini-garden tools and get started. I went out and purchased a bag of seed starter, some packets of herbs, some peat pots to get them started in and, just for a little extra insurance, a second grow light. I even picked up some lettuce seeds and a rectangular pan to start them in. Talk about having faith when the temperature outside is 40 degrees at noon while the wind chill is 30!

I don't know what it is about gardeners and gardening but those of us who are enamored with playing in the dirt and watching things grow have more faith in a seed than in humankind:

"Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has been, I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders."

Henry David Thoreau

Birds can sow seeds. Squirrels can, too. They don't stop to question, to doubt, or to ponder. They just dig a whole and plant the seed. Or they just drop the seed in some dirt as they fly by and let Mother Nature do the rest. She's been doing it a lot longer than we humans have and her expertise is beyond question. Sometimes you just have to have a little faith and a willingness to get your hands dirty.

So I am doing just that. I am pulling out a handful of seed starting soil and gently filling my peat pots. I am marking each one so I know what I planted in which pot (one does forget sometimes when one has so many), and I am planting my seeds. With some water, some light, and lots of love, I have faith that my seeds will provide wonders for me: herbs, lettuce, and my faith renewed.

And so it is. 

Thank You, Phil!

I was beyond thrilled last Friday when it was announced that the groundhog did not see his shadow, meaning that Spring would be early this year. It was music to any gardener's ears, but especially to those of us in the northeast when winter can hang on well into March and even early April. Of course, having lived up in this neck of the woods for over 30 years, I know that what old Phil predicted and what can really happen between now and the official beginning of Spring can be on opposite sides of the discussion. Still, a girl can dream.

What is this girl dreaming of as we meander into February? I dream of the first tiny shoots of daffodils and crocus pushing their pointy green heads up out of the ground. I dream of waking up in the morning to birdsong instead of just crows cawing us awake (no offense to the crows ... I love them but a robin is a bit more musical to wake up to). And speaking of waking up, I dream of waking up to daylight instead of darkness and actually wanting to toss the covers back and get out of bed. I dream of digging through my trusty garden bin under my tiny garden table to see if I have any leftover usable seed packets of herbs and something to plant them in. I dream of going for walks again in the sunshine without five layers of clothes and ear muffs. I dream of the geese coming home, and the birds laying eggs, and the world waking up once more. 

So for now I'll hold fast to old Phil's predictions and pray that he is right. On those days when it is cold and snowy, I'll light candles that smell like spring and watch gardening videos. One of these days I'll wake up to sunshine, birdsong, and a handful of seeds just waiting to touch the earth.

Peace and blessings.