A Struggle

I went out to the garden this morning to pull up the cucumber supports. It had rained in the past few days, and I thought they would pull up easily. Nope.

Dead vines were holding them to the ground. Weed roots wrapped around their bases. I could not simply pull them out of the ground. Back and forth I pushed the cages; pulled some up on the right, then on the left; wiggled it around some more; yanked on them with what little brute strength I have. Good grief!

Stick with it, Betsy, you can get them out. With a little self-encouragement, I persevered and got the cages out.

Let us lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance. Hebrews 12:1.

Sometimes, this is easier said than done, even if we are only talking about tomato cages and cucumber supports. Those support cages had spent the last 5 months living in that space. The desired cucumbers and the unwanted weeds had adapted to the cages’ presence and created a little home. Even though the weather had shifted, and the cucumbers had passed, those established connections were difficult to sever.

I have a deer head in my den, and one in my garage. I have never hunted. These were my late husband Nick’s deer. He was quite proud of them. At this point, I have adapted to them being there; they are just part of my home. Even though the weather had shifted, and he had passed, those established connections are difficult to sever.

Lay aside every weight.

Grief is a blanket that I sometimes wrap around myself. It is comforting and warm and smells deliciously of happy times. But it can be heavy on my shoulders. Next week would have been (will be?) our wedding anniversary. Putting aside the weight of grief is not something I can do quickly. I don’t even think I should do it quickly. Laying aside weights can take effort and energy and struggle, just like pulling those cucumber supports.

I didn’t pull all the tomato cages today. I still have two surviving tomato plants. Pulling up the cucumber supports took all the energy I had for the task. It was enough for today.

And it got me outside.

Between the garden and the lake, I spend a lot of my summer outside. As the garden needs less attention and lower temperatures discourage boating, I find myself indoors more. College and professional football entice me to stay on the couch. But the garden still needs my attention, at least until it sleeps for the winter.

And this is a gorgeous time of year to be outside. Cooler temperatures make work less draining. Bright blue skies lighten my mood; falling leaves fill the air with their earthy scent. Geese call out their presence as they fly in formation. Tinges of orange and yellow and red are visible on the trees.

Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts, the whole earth is full of his glory. Isaiah 6:3.

I am incredibly grateful that the most arduous tasks of gardening, the establishment of the garden and its demolition, take place in the most beautiful seasons of the year, Spring and Autumn. It’s as if God is rewarding these less glorious gardening tasks with a beautiful space in which to do them. And isn’t that often the way with God? As I go about the more mundane chores in my life, God often rewards me with unexpected joys and beauties, if I will look up and see them.

So, as I am struggling with the cucumber supports, wrestling them out of the ground, freeing them from their clinging vines, the geese call for my attention. The blue sky and wispy white clouds dazzle me. The breeze blows orange and brown leaves to my feet from a nearby tree. I can almost smell the crispness in the air.

If I had been able to pull the supports easily, I may have missed this beautiful gift from God. If I had decided the task was too hard and refused to try, I may have missed this gorgeous day.

Betsy