Saturday, May 3, 2008

Dearest God,

A few weeks ago I started the clean up process on my contemplative garden. Last Fall and Winter's debris were removed, allowing the tender stems to push through the soil whenever they are ready.

Today I went to the garden early in the morning in between gentle rainfalls. I edged and removed brown leaves that had collected since the last clean up. That's when I noticed the roots. Roots from several trees and bushes have crept upward to the surface. Somebody once said that when plants do not get enough water, their roots climb to a possible reservoir. I don't know whether it is true or not. However, with last year's drought, I suppose it is possible. I bought more topsoil to give them protection from sun and disease. I really don't know much about gardening. I just know I love my garden.

I think the soil and my spiritual life may have gone through similar routes. When my own spiritual life has felt a drought coming I sought living water wherever I could find it. At times my own spiritual roots showed leaving them exposed, vulnerable. I too have had to find spiritual soil to protect them from the onslaught of temptation, illness or difficulty.

As I work the garden soil, I am aware I work on my own spiritual soil. Each time I cut away unwanted grass, I cut away part of my self, those unnecessary things that burden me down taking energy away from the necessary parts of me. When I pull weeds, I am aware of my own weediness, those little irritants in my life that I don't handle well. They continue to crop up like unwanted weeds in my garden. The topsoil I will place in my garden will remind me to get really rich spiritual soil to give my spiritual roots a place to go deeper, praying that living water is waiting for me.

Contemplative gardening is your way of tending to my own soul. Your hidden secrets, little treasures I find in the garden (ie plenty of worms aerating the soil) keep me exploring the constant ways you are trying to get my attention. The joy I experience is not just the beautiful way my garden will come to life with all its color, but also the process of cleaning, pruning, watering, weed pulling. I am part of this garden's life. I have the responsibility for it. If I tend to it, it has great potential. If not, well, it can all go to weeds and soon be destroyed.

I am grateful for my spring renewal, both my garden and my spirit.

Great Gardener,
you tend
to every soul,
seeking to give
each one of us
soil from your spirit.
I am
just one gardener,
given the opportunity
of tending.
As I tend
to my contemplative garden,
may the seeds
of my own contemplation
bear your fruit,
lovingly.

For you, Andrea