In my vegetable garden there are four raised beds built from wood that was once the kids’ old playhouse, one chaotic heap of compost, a corner full of empty bee hive supplies, and space allotted for a Three Sisters patch (corn, beans, and squash based on fish heads). There is also a cool reclaimed-wood arbor dressed in faded flag bunting, some gently sagging barbed wire where asparagus might still be growing, a thornless blackberry bush, and this old metal chair spray painted black.
I have allowed the weeds here to grow pretty wild lately, just enjoying the lushness and sexiness of a new season taking over the landscape. The abandon of life, crawling and undulating all over the place… Filling every void… Scenting the air with chlorophyll… Irresistible.
To the visitor’s eye, surely my vegetable garden looks crazy. Unkempt, perhaps even neglected. But food is definitely growing there: In the raised beds I have spinach, cabbages, carrots, radishes, potatoes, kale, snow peas, and mesculun. And you know what else is growing? Creativity and freedom. This messy rectangle is an ideal spot for reflection and analysis. Plain old day dreaming. It’s a self-contained fractal and one of my most favorite places on earth.
An unbelievable three and a half years ago, our book club read and discussed William P. Young’s The Shack. Since then I have healed from certain things so much and have gained such a healthier perspective on life. I might even read the book again to see how it hits me now.
My purposes are not for my comfort, or yours.
My purposes are always and only an expression of love.
I purpose to work life out of death,
to bring freedom out of brokenness
and turn darkness into light.
What you see as chaos, I see as a fractal.
Today I am at the farm all day. No subbing, nowhere to go, lots of wonderful, worthwhile stuff to do. And I couldn’t be happier. My days are so different from each other lately, and woven together they present a gorgeous pattern of life well lived. So much Love every where I turn, it’s pretty incredible. I am deeply grateful.
Sitting here at our dining room table, the winds are picking up, blowing the curtains hard through open windows and blasting me with the brief, exotic perfume of irises and lilies. My coffee is getting stale now, telling me it’s time to go outside. I feel certain yearnings but have trouble wishing anything at all were different, even the heartaches we still have. Life is too beautiful and wonderfully unpredictable just as it is. I so firmly trust, now, finally, that Love has purposed everything.