We didn’t put in a garden this year. I don’t have a good reason. We just didn’t do it. I don’t miss the digging. I don’t miss the weeding. But I do miss picking the seeds. Besides eating that first homegrown tomato, selecting seeds is my favorite part. As so many wise ones before me have said, gardening is an act of hope. And choosing what to plant is for me, the first glimmer of that hope.
Oh, I love to look at the pictures, so beautiful on the labels and imagine:
a big, juicy, vine-ripened heirloom tomato
sweet, crunchy snap peas
sunflowers taller than I am.
I can look at those seed packets and dream of rich produce, luscious greens, and extravagantly beautiful flowers.
This summer, using Marcia McFee’s “Future with Hope,” we’ll follow the seed of God’s hope all the way to the harvest. Sunday by Sunday, we’ll watch the seed sprout, grow, bloom, and bear fruit. We’ll consider how we need to tend the soil of our spiritual lives, bloom where we’re planted, or bear rich and abundant fruit.
This Sunday, we start just like Advent, with hope. The simple hope of a seed, waiting in the dark, for warmth and water. The hope of what we cannot see, but trust is already at work. The hope in God’s dream.
I’ll see you on Sunday,