Lesson from my garden: it’s in there somewhere

Do you see it?

I didn’t, at first.  It looked like an overgrown mess, one that had long since destroyed any beauty planted beneath it.


I love gardening.  When I get started, I have a hard time stopping.  I enjoy it.  But I made the mistake of planning my flowerbeds for a stage in life that is very different from the one I’m living.  Spring and Fall are spent driving and watching athletic events, not working in my yard.  That, and it seems there are things I don’t understand about gardening that others do, and so I have some problems that don’t seem to happen in nearby yards.

But still, it’s mine, and when I planted it, it was full of things that I picked because they’re “me.”  And I have a vision of what I hope it will become someday.  It’s my own little experiment, and so I suppose it’s not shocking that I make mistakes and have a lot to fix and learn from.

These little grape hyacinth were like finding a jewel in the weeds.  I would not have thought they’d made it, but there they were, pretty as ever, stems longer than normal so they could rise above my neglect.


I began weeding around them with more caution than I’d had a moment earlier.

People are like that, too.  Things can get out of balance in our lives through neglect.  We end up with weeds we should have rooted out before they became huge stumbling blocks.  Right alongside them may be good things, things we love, qualities we worked for, that have been allowed to run a little wild, overtaking other things and setting our personalities or daily habits off-balance.  Just like these dandelions and my overgrown honeysuckle.

It’s tempting to pass judgment on the whole thing.  To want to aggressively rip everything out.  To forget that beauty, potential, and even good roots are still hiding beneath the mess.

We just need eyes to see.  Faith to believe.  To believe both in the “project” and in the Master Gardener. At first the lesson was about someone else that I love.  All of a sudden I was that little garden plot, grateful that my Savior sees those tiny purple flowers in me, even beneath all the baggage piled on top.

So tread softly.  With people.  With flowers.  With yourself.

Something good, something worth saving is hiding down in there.

We must not give up.