Favorite Kind of Labouring Day

Posted By Sarah Johnson on Sep 7, 2020 | 0 comments

As a little girl I loved planting. It was always a favorite day to release the pony packs of flowers and veggies and bury the roots into the freshly turned soil. We had a long, skinny lot that was surrounded by large trees. So there was lots of shade to hope around. One year a pumpkin vine grew up into the fence, around a tree trunk and over a branch in our neighbor’s yard. a small pumpkin grew perfectly round as it hung from a branch like an apple. Weeding, on the other hand, was a chore to be avoided, dreaded, and abhorred.

I am grateful to my mom for sharing her love of the soil, and for flowers. There is nothing glamorous about the seven laundry baskets of weeds I pulled this weekend, but this fruit. This is what my heart sings about.

The garden teaches us to take care of our roots (self-care, good nutrition),
to prune our vines (boundaries),
the weed out the unwanted (manage our thoughts, choose who we spend time with),
plant the seeds of our desired outcomes (vision and planning),
the wait patiently on the right season for fruit (law of the harvest),
to enjoy the diversity of God’s creations (we are all different and unique In our own unique way),
to increase our capacity to receive (law of abundance),
learn how to enjoy, preserve, and store (yum!),
how to collect seeds for the next crop, (compound interest),
composting what’s left (for me this is a big one! To realize that the experiences of life can be used to fuel a new gift of abundance for later seasons.) and sadly, that winter weather coming tomorrow may be the end to this beautiful season in our Utah gardens. (95 degrees to 30 degrees in 48 hours is kinda like a metaphor for 2020, eh?)

Happy gardening friends! It’s my favorite kind of Laboring day.

I take praying mantis encounters as a good omen. They are warriors of the garden and strike with deadly force to their insect prey. Yesterday was especially happy with three sightings, two albinos, and a single green soldier. We planted artichokes for the first time this year and I am delighted at how they are coming up! Sunflower volunteers remind me of my dear friend Steve Bradshaw; who is now a life graduate and ultimate survivor mentor. My baby mint bloomed baby flowers (ten times smaller than a pencil tip.) and it tickles me to no end to see my children learn the law of the harvest, check on their crops and find as much joy in the land as I do. I share photos of my garden, never to boast, but to offer a bit of sunshine. I feel so much joy and peace in my yard. I am absolutely blown away at how much the earth responds to such a simple effort. When everything in the community feels like it’s spinning out of control, the earth offers a simple reminder of order, safety, seasons, rewards, and bounty.