All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all
With all this writing on weeding and planting good and bad days, I figured it was time to put the metaphor into action. Good Friday seemed as good a time as any to bury a tiny seed into the damp earth in hopes of new life.
Here are some images from my adventures in gardening while listening to Gungor’s You Make Beautiful Things on repeat:
Life springs forth from one small seed, nourishing the body and sustaining the soul.
I cheated and bought some starter spinach and tomato plants so I can eat salad right out of my front yard.
As I transplanted the baby plants into their new home, I was struck by the empty tomb of their former containers–an emptiness that speaks the hope of growth and new life.
A garden will come up from this ground. Our faith does not end on Friday, in the crucifixion and the rejection. Yes, it begins in the pain, in the bare earth, in the darkness, but it doesn’t end there. Today–Good Friday–I am humbled to serve an ever-creating God who makes beautiful things out of death sentences and empty tombs, out of dust and out of us.
Thank you, Love.