I can think of no better place to spend Holy Week than down on my knees, out in the garden.
I’ve devoted the better part of the last three days to my garden; I’ve trimmed, cleaned up leaf debris and planted a few bulbs. Except for planting annuals, which will need to wait for a few more days, my garden is reading for its Spring growing fling.
Caring for my small Mesta Park garden is no full-time job. After caring for lawn and gardens at our Texas home — which covered almost half an acre, I’m almost embarrassed to call what I do here in Mesta Park ‘gardening.’
Today, with all my ‘gardening’ chores done, but with leftover desire to keep gardening, I rang up the owner of the duplex next door today to see if I could come over and play in his dirt. He’s so pleased with what we did together last fall — with his money and my time — that I learned I’m to come over any time I want.
So now, in addition to my own property, I have two duplexes whose front yards I care for on the block, counting the ‘Cinderella’ duplex across the street. These three are still only half of what I cared for in Texas. It’s my own little ministry, where I share my know-how and love of gardening with some good neighbors. It’s just me and God creating a little beauty together.
It feels good to work with my hands, to think creatively off of the written page. The down-side, for my husband anyways, is that I’ve been so tired, we’ve gone out to eat the last three evenings.
Tonight, after dinner, my husband suggested an evening walk with the dogs. It was so pretty, I had to run back in to grab my camera. It was quiet — we walked in silence — covered by the light from old streetlamps. The sky was rosy pink when we began and soft cornflower blue by the time we got home.
On days like these, I can think of no better place to live than in this old neighborhood.
Dee @ Red Dirt Ramblings said:
During prime gardening season, we eat out a lot. Bill hates cleaning the kitchen, so he’s glad. I think being on our knees for Holy Week is the most important thing of all. I hope you have a blessed Easter Triduum and the most joyous of Easters my friend.
Glad to know that I’m not the only gardener on kitchen holiday right now!
I did cook a big meal today and yesterday. And my husband was so grateful for the home-cooked meals. But never ever does he complain or makes me feel less for the need of a night (or two or three) out of the kitchen.
Bet we’re both in the kitchen come Sunday.
Blessings to you and yours.
From your garden to The Garden of Gethsemane. What better place to ponder on Good Friday… and throughout the Easter Weekend. A blessed Easter to you and yours!
You read between the lines very well — Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane was on my mind as I wrote that opening sentence.
I like that, in his time of great need, Jesus went to the garden to pray “as usual.” But to pray anywhere — as usual — not just when inspired, or in great need, or what ever — that’s how I’d most like to live my life, how I most want to be like Jesus.
But oh how I fall short! Like Peter. And the rest. But Easter makes it all okay. Easter levels the praying field.
I receive your Easter weekend blessings with eager hands. And offer you the same — “Peace be with you. And yours.”
Thank you for sharing your personal thoughts. The Garden of Gethsemane and aloneness was what I had in mind too as I ponder the deeper meaning of Easter. My thoughts I’ve roughly put down in words as an Easter poem in my current post. It’s hard to keep focusing on the suffering and death of Jesus on days other than Easter. But that’s what I need to try.
I am weak where you are strong in desire.
Only last year, during my Ignatius retreat, did I seriously meditate on the passion of Jesus. It left me shaken — to see so much evil done against one so good — and to know that the world is no different now than then.
I contemplate an Everyday God, the one I came to know during the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius — Jesus walking the face of the earth, attending to God in the midst of everyday life — weddings, feasts, fishing, cooking, story-tellings and preempted funerals.
And speak of preempting — I pulled away from my Morning Office readings last Thursday through Saturday — picking up again on Sunday. I couldn’t bare it.
Thank God we are now in the season of Easter.