I find myself rummaging through old blog posts the way we do through pictures and other memories. After all, the seasons cycle through and so do our thoughts.

 It is planting season again. We just returned from a trip to the nursery, the one that is operated so creatively by our neighbors Ashley and Sam.

In my first three years of gardening,  I kept expanding, experimenting, and extending my faith.

Then, I hit a few snags and that went on for a couple of years. Last year, I hit a really big snag and my garden was a disaster. This year, I have renewed hope and a tinge of renewed energy.

I find that I pray differently while tending my garden, planting my seeds, pulling my weeds – Yes, MY weeds, breaking the soil,  and watering, watering, watering.

I look and listen more and talk less.

My hands get too dirty to take notes, so I just try to remember the lessons and ask God to remind me later. Some things are not so much for remembering and teaching as they are for transforming us… transforming me.

As a pastor, I am sort of a gardener.

As a person, I am sort of a crop … and sometimes a weed … and sometimes a seed or the soil into which the seed goes.

Lord, help me not to be a weed to often and, when I am, make me good fertilizer as the weediness in me composts into something useful.

I really should be taking more notes, but I get dirty and tired and invigorated and cleansed all at the same time.

I used to hate dirt, but I just did not understand.

And this gets me on my knees, literally and figuratively.

I do pray. I pray for guidance, because this is tricky stuff. I pray for miracles because I have no idea what is happening underground. I pray for patience and patient faith because there are somethings I just cannot make happen.

I pray for seeds to grow and for myself to plant seeds in people's lives that will  grow.

I pray constantly in that dirt and it is pretty earthy prayer.

More to come … I suppose.

Here is my favorite gardening song!