When my husband and I moved to our land several years ago, I little thought I’d turn into a nearly full-time gardener. I put in one perennial bed and then things just proliferated!
I am now in year two of “flower farming” and I have a little roadside stand where I sell anywhere from 1 to 3 bouquets a day. It’s been so delightful. I love flowers of all kinds, and I love being outside and active. My beautiful “harvest” has been abundant and rich in color.
In this month of June, our land is riotous with new blooms and new life. Barn swallows swoop low over my head and chatter at me nearly every time I go outside. They’d like to remind me that they’ve laid claim to all the nooks and crannies in our carport for their babies and if I disturb their babies I’ll have to deal with them. Adorable.
I sat and watched a pair of them just this morning, tag teaming their efforts to build a new nest atop a light fixture beside my screen door.
Earlier this month, I discovered a baby meadow lark, crouching in the wild flower patch. The wild flower seeds I scattered over half an acre had taken my permission to grow there and become impudent. Some cleaning up of edges and pathways really had to happen. But in the process of mowing, my husband accidentally mowed straight over this baby’s nest. By some miracle it survived. With relief, I heard and saw a pair of adult meadow larks calling back and forth to each other. The baby has moved on and the call of the meadow larks with it.
As I began pondering the lyrics of the song above, it hit me how instructive the whole enterprise of farming or gardening really is. I think its main lesson for me has been how much we depend upon forces entirely outside our control to grow anything, look after animals, and put food on our plates.
I think every human being on the planet should at least try to grow something. We would have a deal more respect for farmers, for one thing, if everybody tried to grow enough green beans to make a serving on a dinner plate. Lessons in humility would abound.
In the dark brown layers of soil, you can do everything right: Put the seeds in the ground, water at regular intervals, carefully tend the plants, but if there is no rain…all the hand watering in the world still won’t keep those plants healthy. If the rain comes at proper intervals, different problems emerge. A fungus could strike out of nowhere, or the Japanese beetles could be awful and defoliate the whole crop. My husband wrote about that here:
I’ve had close calls all year long with my flowers. Just last month, I nearly lost them all when hail storms and tornadoes ripped through our part of South Carolina. But somehow, they all just missed us.
We plow the fields and scatter the good seed on the land,
But it is fed and watered by God’s almighty hand.
He sends the snow in winter, the warmth to swell the grain,
The breezes and the sunshine, and soft refreshing rain.
We are helpless. Truly. If not for God’s almighty hand, we would have nothing. But thankfully, He is a good God. He sends the rain. And when, in His perfect knowledge and providence, He doesn’t send the rain, He sends an alternative to tend to our needs and see that we don’t starve.
The birds and animals, so clever and skilled, are like us and utterly dependent on Him too. I thought of that as I lay awake in bed that night after I found the baby meadow lark. It was our fault, after all, that its nest was now exposed to the naked eye and to predators on land and from the air. What’s worse, I’d seen a stray cat lurking about. I prayed, with more urgency than usual, “Please, Lord, don’t let its parents forsake it! Keep it safe through the night.”
I had the courage make such a prayer because God, Himself, said that He sees and cares when a sparrow falls. So I prayed this prayer and went to sleep. Much to my relief, the little bird was well and healthy and cared for by the next afternoon. By Him the birds are fed.
He only is the maker of all things near and far;
He paints the wayside flower, He lights the evening star.
The wind and waves obey Him, by Him the birds are fed;
Much more to us, His children, He gives our daily bread.
I think it may be the mission of my life to convince as many as will listen in this tired, jaded generation, that life is good. Even if it’s not quite perfect. Even in the pain and sorrow and disappointment, in which I am already experienced and have more ahead. Yes, it is good and beautiful. I will say it again and again.
And it is good because God is good. He sends us in these little telegrams, these birds and flowers and small mercies, news from paradise. A paradise that was lost, but can be found again if we only look up and notice Him there smiling at us, His pierced hands held out wide in love and welcome.
And for that, I thank Him every day.
We thee then, O Father, for all things bright and good:
The seedtime and the harvest, our life, our health, our food.
Accept the gifts we offer for all Thy love imparts;
And what thou most desirest: our humble, thankful hearts!
All good gifts around us are sent from heav’n above;
Then thank the Lord, O thank the Lord for all His love.
That’s all for now. Until next time, folks…
If you should care to help me create more quality music, consider buying me a coffee!!
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