My grandpa had a garden. He would grow all kinds of vegetables, and although he passed away when I was young, I remember my cousins and I would pile into the wagon on the back of his garden tractor and he would give us rides.
When I was 10 years old, my family took a trip to Alaska to visit my parents' friends. Mom and Dad met at church in Alaska and it was nearly 15 years later when we went back to visit and stayed with their friends who had a beautiful, huge garden. My sister and I spent hours picking raspberries, peas, and watching the cabbages and zucchini grow over those two weeks.
Every year our family would plant tomatoes, and for a few years, we attacked the clay that is Missouri soil and tried to coax a few more types of veggies, fruits, and flowers to grow. It was always a highlight to see the new types of vegetables produce - like the peas, carrots, lettuce, and radishes. For a few years, we had a strawberry patch, and one year we grew 3-feet tall marigolds.
When I originally starting thinking about this blog post, it was spring in Iowa City and gardens were popping up all around. The Farmer's Market was getting ready to be in full swing and the North Liberty Community pantry was hosting an event on container gardening. Being in such an agriculturally-minded state and a food-conscious city makes gardening a normal part of most people's lives.
Like every year, I created my reading goals for the new year in January; one of the books on my list this year was Paradise Lost. You know, the old-English epic poem by Milton about the fall of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. My sister had recommended the book years ago as she read it for her English degree in college. Although I'm not a huge fan of poetry, neither is she and she liked it, so I thought I'd add it to my list. It has taken me months and some Cliff Notes' help, but I finally finished it this past week. It's certainly contributed to my intermittent pondering on this topic of gardens and gardening.
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| One of my favorite quotes from Paradise Lost. |
When I was initially mulling around these thoughts, Kari Jobe also came out with her new album: The Garden. I listened to the title song on repeat for a few weeks. The "coincidence" of garden-themed things in my life continued: there was either a sermon or an article I encountered contrasting the Garden of Eden with another significant garden in scripture - the garden of Gethsemane. One, where paradise was lost; the other, the precursor to paradise regained through the reconciliation Jesus provided us on the cross.
I think one reason I (and others) are fascinated with the concept of gardening, growing, creating, and cultivating is because we are made in the image of a creator who asked us to cultivate our environment. Not just the ground, although that's part of it, but also our emotional, spiritual, intellectual, and relational environments. It's part of the nature of God that humankind shares.
Fast forward to the current season. It's now fall, dabbling on the edge of winter. The leaves have changed and most have fallen to the ground, leaving the trees bare. The air is colder and there is frost covering the ground in the mornings. Death is part of the consequence of Adam's fall. I dislike this time of the year more than any other: when life turns to death. But without this season, there would be less anticipation for the season of new life.
One day I will have my own garden. A day when I no longer live in a second-floor apartment with only space for a window box or a deck with some pots here and there. Until then, I will keep challenging my comfort zone and cultivate the areas in my life that I can.
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