I once read that anytime we plant something, we are participating in God’s act of creation all over again.
We are creating order from chaos, beauty where there was nothing. As Christians, we of all people should learn to appreciate new growth and the act of creating something beautiful, because it’s what God does. When we care for creation, we are loving something He made and loves, too.
I think that’s why growing a garden has always done something special to my insides. Fresh, soft, black and weedless dirt gives me a thrill. Planting something is a hopeful, joyous act.
I’ve never really had a vegetable garden before. We made one attempt before we moved to the Whiteshell, but we didn’t get our new garden ready on time, and most of what we planted didn’t ripen until it was too late.
Our yard at camp was extremely shady, so I grew hostas for the last five years, and the deer loved me for it. It worked out well – they left my hostas alone all summer, but would come to nibble them up in fall, leaving me with no plants to trim before winter.
Good times. But no vegetables.
This year, I desperately wanted a garden. I wanted to do good things to my insides, teach our girls the excitement of growing things, and eat our own vegetables.
But with a yard full of weeds, and no topsoil in sight, Ben wasn’t sure a garden was a possibility. Until we remembered a bunch of wooden crates we had in our storage shed. We filled them up with dirt, and at this moment, they are a big, beautiful mess of lettuce leaves, spinach, peppers and tomatoes.
I cannot describe the feeling I had when I made our first salad with our own lettuce.
We did this, with some miraculous help. We were part of bringing food into existence.
I came across a quote awhile ago which put that special feeling inside into words:
I want creation to penetrate you with so much admiration that wherever you go, the least plant may bring you the clear remembrance of the Creator. (Basil the Great)
It is so much more than plants or a garden. It’s remembering the Creator, and being reminded of how this whole thing began in the first place.