And So I Plant Deep - Letter of Hope

Dear Friends,

It’s May, prime planting weather! And it is Easter,
prime time for letting the glorious Gospel plant
roots deep into our souls.

Why do I plant? As I tried to explain last month, for
me, planting is a reflection of Christian Hope. As I plant, I dig holes in the ground opening up space for transplants and their roots. My fingers work deep into the earth, connecting my skin, my eyes and my nose to deeper truths. For the last 25 years I have been composting, turning organic scraps into black gold.

During that time, insects and microbes have been hard
at work transforming the things I sought to discard
(peels, seeds, fluffy carrot tops and onion skins) into
something new, creating a wonderful medium for new
life. This work of months and years brings me to this
point in which seedlings are given new space to grow.

Gardening connects me to the ground – ground truth – and connects me to larger systems and cycles. The tastiest strawberries and tomatoes are only available for a limited time. And growing food takes time – it is not an instantaneous process. Even after I have picked the winter squash and pulled up the sweet potatoes, these need to be hardened for winter storage.

Gardening teaches me about planting for others – the pollinators that busily buzz by, the lady bugs and their larva, fennel for the butterfly caterpillars, companion plants that help to deter predators, and letting some of the plants go to seed to give to the migrating birds. Gardening also teaches me about loss. For several years I would prune the rose bushes over the course of several winter weeks. I’m sure the roses had no idea as to why seemingly healthy canes were suddenly chopped off, just as in my life when loss appears out of nowhere. But just like the Master Gardener has a plan that I cannot see, I trust that when I can view my life over the course of years, there was a reason that loss happened and healthier growth occurred as a result.

Gardening hope is similar to Christian hope. It is essentially a forward looking process that brings about joy, a joy that is connected to our past, present and future, bound together in a single moment. It is also about knowing that our lives are deeply connected to the Source that is sometimes beyond our senses, but we see the handiwork in the joy of life around us. And just as my compost from the past enriches my present endeavors, so too, the actions of my past provide a growing medium for new life.

What new life is growing in you today?

Peace,

+Kimberly

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Weekly Inspiration (5/25/23)

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An Episcopal Sermon: May 21, 2023