A Gardener’s Gospel – Week 10
I was so looking forward to the Easter weekend. After weeks of wall-to-wall work and never-ending family commitments, Easter was going to be my designated gardening day. I had lobelia which had been waiting to be planted out since November (seriously) and some pansies which were a more recent purchase. I also needed to compost and fence off my flowerbeds so that the Hound from Hell would be discouraged from using them as her personal racetrack. So how disappointing when I saw that snow was forecast?
Limited Time
Good Friday dawned bright and clear. I knew that a blizzard was coming, but I thought that if I got into the garden early enough, I’d manage to get everything done before the snow came in and the Good Friday service started at church. Things went well for the first hour. I raked and tidied and prepared the ground for the new seedlings. But then the wind whipped up, the clouds darkened and the threatened snow began to fall. Dammit, I wasn’t going inside! This was the only time I could do what needed to be done. Easter Saturday would be housecleaning and egg painting, Easter Sunday, church services and Easter egg hunts and Easter Monday, my mum’s birthday.
So with my husband gesturing to me madly through the French windows and even the dog going inside to find a nice warm bed, I carried on regardless. Wire cutters gouged my flesh, hail beat me and wind whipped me, but nothing made me stop before I was finished. This was my time and I would defend it to my very last breath.
I came down with a head cold the next day; but my garden looked stunning. The lawn still needs work (I plan to re-seed the day before we go away for a week later this month) but the beds are ready to bloom. I can’t wait.
Incessant demands
Just this morning, I was battling another blizzard. We had 90 minutes before church and I was really inspired to do a bit of writing. My novel, Deadline, the most ironically named piece of literature of all time, was begging for my attention. The dog was having her breakfast, the daughter watching Cinderella, the husband showering, and I was poised to write with laptop in bed. But after 10 minutes, the husband, then the daughter, then the dog ate up all my time with their various demands. I battled and battled and battled, but with tears in my eyes, finally gave up.
I hated it. All the way to church I was seething about my time that was stolen. You need to prioritise, I hear you say. But I do. I really do. Family then work then church then friends, then sleep from pure exhaustion, all take priority; after that there’s very little left for me. ‘God loves a willing giver’, I’ve heard it said; if that’s the case, he can’t love me very much. Today I’m resentful of giving my time. Today I wanted to write like I gardened that Good Friday. But it hasn’t happened.
Jesus under pressure
My only comfort is that Jesus must have felt the same. I read of all the times he withdrew to a quiet place after jam-packed days of work, ministry and social engagements. And do you think his followers could leave him in peace? Absolutely not. We read time and again of the disciples following him, calling him, demanding of him, again and again and again. Then finally, in that other Garden, for once, while he was begging to be spared the biggest trial of his life, he did not want to be alone. He had given of himself non-stop for three years and all he wanted was a bit of comfort and friendship. And his friends fell asleep. With that fresh in his mind the soldiers came to take him to the cross where his solitude would finally be complete: My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?
There is solitude that heals and solitude that destroys. Which one is my garden?
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.
Matthew 11:28 - 30
Subscribe to my feed to receive automatic notification of new content (what's this all about?)
Welcome to my site - I'm Fiona Veitch Smith, a freelance journalist, author, playwright and writing teacher. This site contains thoughts and articles I've written on a range of topics. I hope you find them useful.
Hi Fiona
I empathise - but up here in the frozen North, gardening at Easter is something of a rarity even when Easter is late in the calendar (unlike this year!).
I tend to adopt the approach that when I’ve promised myself some time in the garden I will go out and do something - no matter how small. After that, I can happily come in if it’s raining or snowing or there are other demands. Of course the garden work still needs done, but a little bit of ‘considered neglect’ isn’t such a bad thing.
For a while now I’ve been toying with the idea of writing a blog dedicated to ‘developing daily disciplines’ - little things that I do that keep me healthy and relatively sane (at least some of the time). I must get around to that one day
You should go with the blog idea, Endless, I like the idea of ‘considered neglect’. You and I seem to have the same view of living under God’s grace (though this week I’ve been battling against it a bit!). I don’t know if you’ve checked out my other website, but there is a series on there on the nuts and bolts of blogging. I know you’re already an old hand, but there might be something there for you.
Thanks for stopping by.
Hi Fiona,
Your post is a reminder for those of us creative that we do need to take the time to fill our creative well.
Personally, when I end up giving so much to others and don’t take the needed time, I get physically ill.
I had to learn to say no. I still have terrible problems saying no to people but at least I make an effort now to stop and think is this something I have the time and energy to take on.
Loved ones, don’t seem to see we need our space like they need theirs. Especially, being women we are all things. Wife, mother, friend. The one who is strength in a crisis.
Maybe let hubby and your child go to church without you. Stay in garden and commune with God.
Blessings,
Polly w/a Keelia Greer
Hi Polly, my loved ones don’t seem to need space like I need it. So it’s hard for them to understand when I do want time out. They see it as me selfishly taking time away from the family that we could be enjoying together. I’m currently critiquing a novel, set on another planet, where some ‘earthlings’ find themselves against their will. A group of locals (who themselves are on the run from some baddies) befriend them. The locals are completely communal and don’t seem to need individual time - the author writes that when the ‘earthlings’ (my word!) express their need for moments of solitude the locals consider it strange at best, deviant at worst. As creatives, I sometimes feel we are on another planet. And as Christians, called to community, it can be even harder to justify. Though, as I point out, Jesus sought solitude to. Thanks for stopping by and your words of encouragement.
Fiona and Polly , thank you so much! Men also have to deal with such issues, but rarely do we talk about them.
PS to understand my name, see “Given for Life” (about Motivational Gifts) by Andy Raine
Hi Mr Mercy, I’ve read Andy Raine’s book. For those who haven’t check it out!