This week we’re garden sitting for my neighbor Libby, who has an extensive organic garden and bakery across the street from our house. I water and tend to the plants in exchange for the produce that ripens while they’re away. It’s a pretty sweet deal for someone who can’t seem to figure out gardening in Oklahoma beyond basil and rosemary.
Yesterday morning I picked green beans as my daughter chased kittens and my son was tried to eat out of the compost pile. It wasn’t even 10 AM but it was wickedly hot and I had sweat dripping off the tip of my nose.
I felt a deep connection to the soil and the plants as I gingerly pulled back the leaves hunting for the long, slender green beans. I couldn’t help reflecting on the encompassing worship of creating, how in the act of sprouting and growing, these green beans were worshipping our mutual father. They were being faithful to their call to bloom as they were planted.
Last night over cupcakes and tapas I had a chat with a dear friend about life, love and
direction. I’m the older, “wiser” one in our relationship and all I could think to say about the purpose and direction of her life was this: she was really only called to impart herself to the world she found herself in.
God created us all with an inner spirit and if we infuse that beauty to the people and places we find ourselves in, then that’s being faithful. I never saw myself as a writer and full time Mom when I was on the cusp of college graduation, but I endeavor to share my inner spirit with you and my children as best I can.
And somewhere in-between the green beans and the cupcakes I realized that why I write about my painful story, my little at home moments, because I want to give you a taste of my hope.
My insides can’t contain the need to shout from the rooftops the good news that whatever you’re going through, wherever you find yourself, that you can find full hope in a God who will bring you through the other side of every situation to a new, joy filled day.
Somehow writing about suicide nights and french toast mornings is my way of imparting my inner spirit into your world. Because if we could sit down and have a fancy cupcake, at some point I would tell you not to lose hope, because with a loving God we can come through the other end of any day or struggle.
God’s redeeming my story, he is using me to show hope and whatever you have, wherever you’ve been if you hold it up to him, with weak and shaky arms, he will redeem it and make something beautiful.
I can promise you with every confidence that I feel this, and I can’t contain it.