Rows of dead, crisp things lingered in my garden from the early arrival of winter so many months ago, still stubbornly clinging to the soil. I slipped into sandals, stripped off my top layers down to cami, entered my patch of scratched dirt and let the sun kiss my shoulders.
Then, for Mother's Day, I asked Robb to help till my garden.
Some manure may also be in my future.
It strikes me ironic that even poop can be re-purposed. What one could not gain any nutrients from, another can use.
Lord, work the hard places in my heart,
the settled-down-in-my-own-ways places.
Use the excrement of my life,
the thing I thought I couldn't use,
Furrow it in,
till it deep.
Make me fertile ground
for your Word to take root,
Soon we'll work the hard settled ground, dreaming of days long and baskets full.
But for now, while we wait, we'll rummage around for an appropriate sized vase and notice the beauty of first dandelions on the kitchen table.
Today, I'm sharing When God Seems Late for Elizabeth Ester's Saturday Evening Blog Post. Thank you for your comments, encouragement. God is faithful. And you are faithful friends.