Cool earth between my fingers. The grit under my nails. Here I go again. Planting seedlings. And I wonder how long will this time last? Will the earnestness to water, weed, and fertilize be only for a few days, weeks, or months? And what if it became years? This is the story of my life. In plants of course. Because certainly my spiritual life looks nothing like this...
This. This trying to start new disciplines. Again and again. And failing. And succeeding. And how long will any of it last? Will I fertilize regulalry? Will it all ever become closer to habbit and further from work? Chore. Remembering...
And I've gotten this far. It becomes easier to be diligent but still one missed day can lead you back to barren soil. And before you know it you've forgotten the smell of wet soil and earth beneath your nails. You are dry. You are longing for rain. But what you need more than that? A Caretaker.
And how I'm thankful that when I negelct my garden, the ultimate Caretaker comes. And He gives light and rain, breath and air.
Today I rise and reach to the Son. Like I did yesterday. A discipline, is this gardening.
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