This picture was taken five years ago, when my husband, Ron, was still living. I wish I could tend to the gardens as lovingly and skillfully as he did. I know this spring, the front won’t look nearly as pretty.
My heart is willing, but my body doesn’t cooperate. The “spring” in my step isn’t quite as lively as it used to be. My lower back groans, my knees protest, and my arms aren’t strong enough to pull those invasive weeds.
This makes me appreciate all the efforts Ron put into making our yard a peaceful place to enjoy. I’m humbled and embarrassed at not being able to produce these kinds of results. I do believe my thumb is more white than green.
As spring approaches, my mind tells me, “You can do this!” And I actually feel like I can…until I begin the hard work of clearing even one small patch. Then I get discouraged. I give up.
I’m so grateful that God doesn’t give up on me so easily. I’m definitely a work in progress, but He tenderly nurtures me and prepares me for eternal life with Him. God doesn’t age. He doesn’t grow tired and weak. He is strong and vital, kind and yet stern.
I believe God groomed my husband to be a gardener in heaven.
There will be a day when I see all that was prepared for our eternal life. It will be glorious and beyond anything I can imagine. I don’t know what job God is grooming me for in heaven, but I am positive it is perfect. Until then, I welcome the tasks He puts before me.
Even if it includes my meager efforts at being a gardener!