A Walking Garden

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I always feel super cheesy when I ask my husband to take a picture of me, so I hope it was worth the effort.

It’s May! And there are beautiful flowers everywhere! Well, not in my yard there aren’t unless you count dandelions as flowers, which according to my children they are. I admire the vast variety of colors and designs that God used when he designed flowers. He’s so creative! Last Mother’s Day my husband and I went to a green house and picked out three GORGEOUS fuschia hanging baskets. My husband hung them in front of our porch for me. My daughter thought they were pretty too. She collected all of the little flowers that fell off and made mini bouquets out of them. My son liked splashing in the puddles that were created when I over watered them. Like most flowers, in order to bloom, these fuchsias had to be watered daily. Day after day, I’d go to the hose spout and fill up the pitcher with water. I had to drag a stool over to each basket so I could reach it. It took two trips to the water spout to satisfy those beauties. It wasn’t a difficult task, but with three little kids consuming my time and energy I didn’t have much extra to spare on some flowers that had a life expectancy of 3 months ( or 3 weeks if in my care!). I started resenting those fuchsias. I wanted them to hurry up and die so I could throw them in the composed pile. I wanted them out of my sight so I could stop feeling guilty about how I failed to provide for them.

This year I refuse to water flowers. Well except I bought a Venus fly-trap last week. It’s hanging on for dear life. You can add it to your prayer list. Start a prayer chain. It is going to die. I’ve seen people put fake flowers in their yard. I like the idea of it, but they look super tacky. I have resided to forgo a garden for probably at least another decade. This year I wore a garden instead:

A girl friend of mine invited me to a clothing party at her house. You know like a tupperware party but with clothes instead. I was afraid I’d be pressured to buy clothes that were beyond my price range (I duck and run from commissioners), but an evening out of the house with a favorite friend sounded to tempting! The clothing line has the most foofoo-iest name. LaRaRu, RuLaLa, LaRaRa something like that. You cool people know what I’m talking about. My friend and I walked into our mutual girl friend’s house and her family room was set up like a little boutique shop with clothing racks and all. The clothes
were extremely bright and colorful. You would think this would excite a color freak like
myself except for the total lack of purple. I did some hunting and I found one dress with big purple flowers on it. Talk about a floral pattern, I wore it to church this Sunday and I felt like a walking garden! Problem solved. I don’t need a garden when I can be the garden.

It’s a good thing I don’t have a job in horticulture. I have respect for the work of horticulturists, especially God’s work. He has a lot of pruning to do in this garden of mine. I’m not talking about the floral dress; I’m talking about my heart. Jesus says, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.” John 15:1. I tell you what, pruning does not feel very nice! It’s uncomfortable and humbling when He tries to pull my weeds of greed, selfishness, impatience and unforgiveness. Oach! Oach! Oach! Like a stubborn weed sometimes I want to tell Him to just leave me alone, but He loves me too much to do that. Philippians 1:6 says, “And I am sure of this that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Yey! He’s not just waiting around to throw me into the compost pile. Unlike myself, God actually enjoys gardening. He wants me to bloom, so He does the dirty work of pruning me one ugly weed at a time.

Prune and bloom my friends!

“Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night. That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither—whatever they do prospers.” Psalms 1:1-3

Dear God: I’m sorry I’m so weedy. Continue to prune the ugliness out of me so that I can be more like You. Give me peace in knowing that the discomfort from pruning is worth the work. Thank You for not giving up on me.

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