tilling and waiting

With Shawn's and Lianna's help, I was able to get a nice sized portion of my lawn tilled up to get ready for gardening. My muscles are sore (in a good way) from trying to manage the big beast of a tiller. You are probably wondering, and the answer is "yes" - it has names. The engine's name is Viper, the machine's name is Earthquake, and we just call it Rick - short for Richter. So now that all the sod and mulch and various weeds are "ground" up, it's time to just work it with a hoe and rake and wait. Planting season is SO soon, and then there will be new growth and then a harvest. My soul is in the same place. My heart feels tilled, like something chopped through everything solid, like maybe an earthquake ripped through my soul. But I know it is just tilling season, and the Master Gardener will hoe and rake and will soon plant new seeds and my soul will be green and growing again. I believe that. But right now, I am still sore, physically and spiritually.

Believe in prayer or believe in God

I spent alot of time and energy on my yard this past weekend. I love participating in God's work of nature - cleaning up the winter damage, preparing the ground for new growth, and nurturing what is already growing. I thinned out the peonies and transplanted them to try and make a hedge. I mowed and pruned, dug around the fence Shawn just repaired for me and planted Hollyhocks along it. I did some work in the garden that should have been done last fall. Then my final job was spraying a bit of Roundup on some dandelions and on the Creeping Charlie invading the stone circle around my favorite tree - the hardwood red maple. I planted it after it sat a year in its pot looking dead and two-dimensional and now it is full, round, and beautiful. The tree's resurrection story makes me love it more. Anyway, after this final chore, I then went and showered, had a cup of tea, and settled in for a good night's sleep. At 1:13 AM my eyes slammed open and I remembered my last chore and thought, "Oh God, I might have killed my tree!!" I sat straight up in bed and said, "Please, Dear God, don't let my tree die! I am so sorry!" Since I believe in the power of prayer, I should have gone back to sleep, right? No, I laid back down and closed my eyes for 2 seconds, then sprung out of bed and into work clothes. I went out and got the shovel and wheelbarrow and dug up everything within 3 feet of the tree. Yes, I know I looked creepy out digging in the dirt in the dark. It crossed my mind that the neighbors might wake up and see me and think I have gone mad, but I don't really care what they think. I do care what people think of my spirituality and faith, however. Since I prayed for God to save the tree, I might be accused of not really believing since I did not just go back to sleep. But I believe when I pray I am not talking to a God "up there" or out in space somewhere; I am talking to God who dwells right inside me. When I pray, His Holy Spirit ignites a fire in me and puts me to work. That's why I like to think I am participating in His work, especially in gardening. I did not invent the system that makes things grow - I just join in. Sometimes I do stupid things that get in the way, like spraying Roundup around my favorite tree, but I join God in forgiving me, too, and helping make things right again.