Daughter of the King

Thoughts and Gardens

The sun beats down with detrimental force. It hasn’t rained for days, yet the humidity level remains unbearable. Upon entering the garden I notice Mr. Perky my pumpkin plant. He smiles at me, almost laughing in the suns caresses. I can’t help but giggle as I pass him. He’s so proud of his seven leaves. I planted him a week before I left for New Jersey, and he’s dying for me to notice his progress.
My eyes sadly avert their attention to the seven tomato plants just ahead. They lay in the dust heavy laden with fruit. I had gently tied the branches to small bamboo rods before leaving, but their produce far exceeds the weight capacity of the support system and so now there are several broken sticks lying amidst the ripening fruit. Across from the tomato disaster stand the five peppers. Peppy obviously came from the word pepper because my peppers reach for the sky with vigor and class. Their leaves grasp the suns rays with eager delight. I almost wish I could transfer some of their order and energy across the path to the tomato patch.
The beautiful wild flower box is next. A mass of greenery is dotted with dazzling color. Plenty of butterflies and tiny birds come to drink the nectar from my wild flowers. My garden used to be strictly vegetable, but this year we have added several flowers and I am so glad. There’s something divine about the purpose of a life to be simply: live beautifully.
The corn grows tall to my right. Each plant has a funky head at this stage. There are two or three corn ears on each stock, and on the ground are four squashes growing amidst the corn rows. The Indians used to plant zucchini as a under crop with corn because it keeps raccoons away; the animals don’t like to get near the prickly leaves. I’m hopeful that my squash will serve the same purpose.
By the time I reach the watermelon plants my bare feet are burning. It is more than a hundred degrees today, and the path of my garden is scorching. Watermelon is a new addition as well, and I was pleasantly surprised with a baby fruit yesterday. It is almost the size of Kezzy’s head, and is oh-so-adorable.
My heart sunk when I caught sight of my precious cucumbers. I love cucumber plants, and all four of mine were crying. Their leaves were slumped and droopy. They begged me for water with a look of forlorn and agony. They were holding on for dear life, and their pitiful condition is heartbreaking. Yet, I had to resist their plea. If I were to water them now they would surely die, see, the sun would burn them to shreds as soon as the water touched their vines. I did try to rearrange them a bit so that they would be more comfortable. My calloused feet were burning still, so it’s no wonder they were on the brink.
As I readjusted their vines the Holy Spirit reminded me of my pitiful life. I too beg the Father for water, for answers, clinging to life with every breath. I am so often angered when He seems to pass by and ignore me, refusing to give the water I (think I) so desperately need. I do not understand it then, but it’s for my good that He has me wait. Oh, the things a gardener gets to learn about God when she’s on her hands and knees at work. If only I could soak up His wisdom like my pumpkin soaks up light.

Well for those of you who want to know, I am glad to be home in my garden. I love it. I miss New Jersey lots and lots, but I am meant to be here now, and I am content. There are days when I feel exactly like my cucumber plants, but thankfully my Father, or my Vinedresser, knows better than I. I must head His voice and abide in the Vine, then, and only then, will I be able to live.

posted by Becca @ 9:02 PM