From the Green House #1 September 2024 I'm always amazed at how God knows what we need better than we do. When we were looking at houses two Septembers ago, I had my heart set on an old craftsman-style bungalow with an attached greenhouse. I toured that house three times because I loved it so much! I had plans for the greenhouse, too. I could visualize how I would use it, the plants that would fill it, and how it would benefit my mental wellness and more importantly, my husband’s health. It seemed like just what we needed. So imagine my disappointment when our realtor told us that she had sent in our offer, but the seller had just accepted another offer. Shortly after, we found ourselves writing another offer on a different house. It was small, on a corner lot, and had no attached greenhouse. I felt like I was settling because we HAD to find a place to live since our house had already been sold. Now, after being here for almost two years, I can see how God was working. He knew that this house would be just what we needed. I’ve come to love this house and enjoyed making it a home. I have also had so much fun creating new gardens on our corner lot which is much bigger than I had originally thought. And it just so happens that the color of the house is a deep green - actually Sherwin Williams Garden Gate green. So in a way, I still got my ‘green house’. The following spring (2023), I started thinking about the yard and visualizing what it could be. When I stared out the windows, I could see existing mature trees and a mishmash of smaller ornamental trees and shrubs in odd places. It needed a major overhaul - kind of like me. The stress of health problems were beginning to take a toll on me, so by giving this yard a makeover, I was giving myself time to heal. We all know the benefits of gardening, and for me, it was the best therapy I could ask for. As a garden designer, it has been an invigorating challenge to design and garden in a smaller space than what I haven been used to. I started with the garden on the east side of the house. I knew I wanted a deep bed that I could walk through. And the olive green color of the house was the perfect backdrop for my favorite color purple in all its shades. Thanks to plants that were shared with me, I was off to a good start. We mowed the grass extremely short and sprayed the area killing off what was there. I try not to use glyphosate but realistically knew that this is what would work the best. Can’t imagine what our neighbors were thinking when they saw our lawn half dead with orange lines drawn on like a puzzle. At planting time, we amended each hole with a triple dose of goodness: Espoma’s Biotone Starter Plus, Nature’s Blend with Alfalfa and Humates, and root stimulator. We used leaves from the big silver maple in the back yard to mulch it all. At first I wasn’t sure I liked the look. We’ve been trained to think that a topping of brown hardwood mulch looks the best and is the best option. But I didn’t cave, and I’m glad I didn’t! After being in the ground for only one year, the plants have grown and filled in beyond my expectations, and I can’t even see the leaf mulch! The spring rains earlier this year definitely helped give them all a good start. Next time I'll share specific plants in this bed and how I intentionally thought about bloom times to achieve a continuous show. Each month it looks different, with something new at it's peak. This garden has brought me so much joy. Seeing it filled with pollinators - especially bumblebees and hummingbirds along with flocks of finches - makes my heart so happy. God really does know what we need more than we do. We just need to trust him.
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Out the kitchen window, the sky slowly awakens. From darkness to soft pinks to bright blues. I love watching the sunrise. Every morning a new painting.
Days begin early for me, and that is by design. The fullness of my schedule is heavy, but rising before the sun, I have an hour for me. Starting the morning this way helps me navigate the rest of the day. But it's not always enough. Life can be a bit much at times. The schedule too full, the demands too great, the news too depressing, and time moving too fast. . . So this morning, in darkness, I light a candle. Sitting quiet, I breathe in deeply, exhale slowly. Then I listen. The beautiful words of Psalm 23 fill the room . . . The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. I meditate on this. What a peaceful picture that is painted - green pastures, quiet waters. Images of a flower-filled meadow and a nearby stream come to mind. I feel the stress begin to melt away. The words so calming, I listen to the entire Psalm three times. Yes, this refreshes my soul. It’s the lenten season and I know this rhythm well. The familiar songs sung from grateful hearts, the cross-focused words draw thought and at times tears. But Sundays in lent hold a lighter tone - islands of refreshment as someone coined them. That’s what this moment is. An island of much needed refreshment. Many of you are walking through a valley right now - losing a loved one, carrying for aging parents, weathering a storm of illness. Remember, you don’t walk it alone. Our Good Shepherd walks beside us, guiding us along right paths, and refreshing our souls. Some find refreshment in traveling to an actual island, escaping the stresses of life for awhile. But these few moments of quiet meditation can refresh the soul. It’s the end of the psalm that puts life back into perspective . . . You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Instead of stressed, I feel blessed. My life overflows with blessings and the hope of heaven is best of all. This soul refreshment is more urgent and more important than anything else on my schedule. When life overwhelms, I hope you’ll make time for yourself - to find refreshment. If you’d like to practice a little meditation like I did, all you need is a quiet room, a candle, and a heart ready to be still. You can listen to Psalm 23 here. Praying for you, friend. I’ve long been amazed that seeds hold a bit of the miraculous. How can such a tiny thing become food for the table, a tree stretching shading branches, a field of flowers. Each seed holding potential, but its more than just potential. We plant in faith - that it will grow. We water in hope - that we’ve done our part. The rest is up to God. And he always provides.
How many times have I read the following and breezed past: “Then God said, ‘I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food.’“ Genesis 1:29 NIV This was the first gift he gave to his creation. That such a small, unassuming seed could produce food that would sustain life? An impossible gift that required wild faith and still does. He turns seeds into harvest, food for our tables to fill hungry stomachs. But his provisions are greater than this. He gifts us with small, unassuming things that don’t look like enough. Everyday moments, seeds of grace, that become a life that is full. Looking back at the year that has just passed, it has been full of hard moments, hearts spilling tears, and nights whispering prayers, but also moments of joy and wonder. I can say it was a good year because I can see his goodness, his nearness. The seeds that have grown look like friends and family who support and murmur prayers for us, for healing. Something impossible that required wild faith. And through it all, God’s goodness was the gift. January, the beginning of a new year, planting new seeds in a fresh Eden, while watching other seedlings still growing. All this, the dreams, ideas, goals, are humble seeds that we plant, and we trust that God will provide, growing them into what we need. The abundance of his gifts and his grace is feast for the soul. And that is more than enough. It was early for a Saturday. But after a couple months of intentionally dragging myself out of bed at 4:55 am - even on weekends - early mornings had become a natural rhythm. Wrapped in a warm blanket with steaming cup of tea in hand, I sat in the screened-in porch to greet the dawn. It was quiet, there at the house my sisters and I had rented for a few days. And quiet is just what my churning heart needed. Cows mooed to each other in the distance, a few birds chatted, and there was a lone duck floating in the pond that was the focal point of my view. I watched the sun rise. The night before had gifted us with a beautiful fall sunset. No wonder there were so many windows in this house that face west. I took a sip, then I heard him before I saw him. From a snag nearby, the rush of wings, then the graceful flight of an eagle swooping down to the pond. Splash. He circled back up to the snag. A few minutes later, he dove again. And then a third time. I watched in wonder, thankful for witnessing this moment. I’ve never been this close to an eagle and this was a front row seat! Isn't it amazing how an eagle can see his prey so clearly from such a distance? For the last few days, I had been wrestling with a decision that would change life as I know it, at least for a while. Seems like life has been a crazy rollercoaster ride for the last three years, and finally had relaxed into a much welcomed calmness this summer. I’ve settled into a new house, planted new gardens, and still love running a small business. Health issues have finally become manageable, and stress has greatly dissipated. But there still is a need, and now could God be gifting an opportunity to fill it? Sorry to be vague, but I’m not quite ready to share details. Just know that it’s all good. What I really needed when I drove to the rental, was clarity. Wrestling with this decision was all-consuming, but in that place, that morning, that eagle, I felt I could finally relax and breathe. I felt something else, too, the clarity I was seeking. Just distancing myself from the daily hum of life brought a different perspective - one much more clear. Making decisions is not always easy, especially the big ones. Author Greg McKeown says in his book, Essentialism, “If it isn’t a clear yes, it's a clear no.” After lots of conversations with God, this one was a pretty clear yes, although when I confided in my sisters that weekend, I did ask if they thought I was crazy for even considering this! It’s the praying and leaving it in God’s hands where I find the biggest source of peace. He gives what we need even when we don’t even know we need it. So I’m leaning into His wisdom, and counting on Him to renew my strength daily in this adventure as He says in Isaiah 40:31: “But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” As you may know, I’m a faithful follower of Emily P Freeman. You could say she’s one of my gurus. I’ve mentioned her several times in the past because her Next Right Thing podcast and book really make me think. On a recent podcast, she said this: “Sometimes it (your yes) feels like clarity, like sharp, fresh air on a deep autumn night like a full moon, like the straight line of blue on blue while standing on the edge of the sea and you just know a thing deep down, like you've always known it. Sometimes it feels like prayer, like having an actual face-to-face, conversation with divine God, the one who is wild about you, not the one who shakes a finger in your general direction. Sometimes a clear yes sounds like you being as honest as you're able stating what you really want again or for the first time, there's a lot to learn in discovering for you what is the difference between your, yes, I could do this and your hell yes, I must do this. For some of us it will be instant, but that's not always how it happens and it's okay if your hell yes comes from a slow burn as you continue to do your next right thing in love.” Episode #299 And I will add sometimes we make the best decision we can with the information we have at that time and leave it in those holy hands that are bigger than ours. If you struggle with making decisions, I encourage you to give Emily’s book and or podcast a try. One of my favorite things I’ve learned from her is to not make a pro-con list. Instead ask yourself: is this life-giving or is this life-draining? I’m actually looking ahead with some excitement to what lies ahead. With it will come more demands on my time, and will test my endurance. I will long to escape to a retreat out in the country when I have another difficult decision to make, but I hope that morning, that eagle, that sense of clarity will stay with me for awhile. Blessings on decisions that you are struggling with. I’m praying God gives you the clarity you need, the strength you need, and that he will give you an eagle moment of your own. Solitude. For as long as I can remember, I have tried to rise early, to be the first one up so I can have a few minutes of quiet before the house fills with morning activity. My intention is always to start my day in God's Word and write a page in my journal, but often I settle in with my phone, scrolling through my social media pages. It bothers me that this has become my default.
My summer's resolve is to change the default - to create a new morning routine that feeds my spirit before doing anything else. As I was searching for a new Bible study, two of my favorite podcasters were doing a Summer in Psalms series. Perfect! The psalms have been such a comfort to me this past year. When life is full of questions, fear of the unknown future, and endless waiting, closing the day with a psalm has turned all that uncertainty into the certainty of God's sovereignty and has brought restful sleep. As I find myself still in need of some soul restoration this summer, I'll defer to others who have eloquently ministered to me and share them with you. I hope you will spend some time with these gifted women, too. Let me begin with a summary of what the psalms are: "From songs of praise to cries of lament and everything in-between, the book of psalms captures the wide range of emotions in life. The psalmists paint a picture of a relationship with God that is filled with delays, disappointments, surprises, and triumphs. Through it all, their words model an incredible resolve to keep their eyes on God. Instead of being swallowed up by the darkness of their emotions and circumstances, they persevered in grabbing hold of God's unfailing love and faithfulness." Those words arise from a new Bible study by Adrienne Camp called 'As for me'. I just ordered my copy of this 7-week study. If you are interested, you can check it out here. Emily P Freeman is reading a psalm each week on her podcast. I have often drifted off to sleep listening to her calming voice read the psalms. You can read or listen to them here. She's even put them together in a collection on Spotify so you can easily find them. Finally, I've been listening to Christy Knockel's The Glorious in the Mundane podcast. I've always been a fan of her music, and I find her honesty and deep trust in God reflected in her podcasts as well. Her writing style is beautiful and poetic. It's her weekly dive into the psalms that I look forward to most. Even if you don't have a podcast app on your phone, you can listen to them here. She recently interviewed Adrienne Camp on her podcast which is how I discovered the 'As for Me' Bible Study. You can listen to it here. I'll close with a few words from Christy's most recent message that really spoke to me: "The River of Life is in you. And it is meant for your flourishing, and your flourishing through the power of the Holy Spirit is meant for those who are around you who are hurting and broken in this world. Maybe surrender your life anew - that your flourishing is for the flourishing of others - through the Holy Spirit." I feel far from flourishing, friends. But little by little, as I daily stay 'planted by streams of water' (Ps.1:3), restoration is happening. And this summer, God is using these three women who are flourishing to share His message of hope and peace with me. I hope you'll spend some time in the Psalms with what's left of our summer. Maybe consider creating your own routine of beginning and/or ending your day in solitude with God. He is the River of Life and His Gospel message is life-giving. May we all stay within the River's reach because 'everywhere the River goes, everything lives'. - Christy Knockels They say that music moves us, and it's true. I think flowers can do that, too.
How else can I explain the vivid memories I have of my grandparents garden? Memories from 40+ years ago of playing beneath the overgrown lilacs, the fragrance of the Bridal Wreath hedge, the privets that ran the yard's perimeter, pink peonies and orange lilies that hugged the house; even the strawberries in their circular raised bed. But even more vivid are the trees: the papery skin of the birch clumps along the driveway, the delicacy of the honey locust, the messy crabapple, the breadth of the maples, the prickly blue spruce, and most of all the magical peacefulness of the orchard. I grew up just down the road from my grandparents and spent a lot of time there. Along with my parents, they were a huge influence on me during my young formative years, shaping me into who I have grown into. It's these lasting impressions of them that are deeply imprinted on me, that when I smell a lilac, or see a fountain of white sprays of the Bridal Wreath Spirea, the memory of them is still alive. It's so interesting to me how the lives of those we love are intertwined with plants. I'm still trying to sort it all out. I recently watched an episode of Growing Floret from the newly released Season Two. As owner of Floret, Erin Benzakein, explores two vast collections of heirloom rambler roses, she clearly sees the connection of the legacy of those roses and that of those who collected them. The roses are passing through time thanks to the care of two passionate collectors, and that was their legacy - passing these rare treasures on to the next generation. As she ponders their life's work - the collecting, cultivating, and sharing of these beautiful pieces of living history - she asks the question: “When I am gone from this earth, what will my legacy be? What do I want it to be?” I can't stop thinking about that. 'What will my legacy be? What do I want it to be?" I've often thought about this big life question, and here it is again. As I get older, it becomes more important to think about. What am I doing with my life? What do I want to be remembered for. As much as I want to make a difference and leave an imprint in some way, it may not be what I do, but more how I do it. How am I living my life? How am I passing through time? How am I showing love to others? How am I being a light to God's truth? So many questions, all of them big ones. In that episode, Erin says this: “I believe that we have potential to do great things in our lives, and there are pathways set out before us. The individual person chooses whether or not they want to do or overcome what it’s going to take to go down that path. You have that potential, but will you realize it in this lifetime? That’s up to you. How brave are you, how strong are you, how soft are you, how open are you . . . there’s a lot of possibility for all of us, it just depends on how we respond.” I believe that, too. I believe that we can be intentional about what we do with our lives, that we all have the potential to do great things, and that there are so many possibilities for each of us. But when people think of me when I'm gone, will they remember me for what I did, or for how I lived? My grandparents taught me a lot about gardening and growing plants. I don't remember them for their achievements, but it was how they lived that will keep their memory alive in me. It was how they expressed love to me, and how they lived their faith, sharing God's truth in small ways with me that made the most important impression on me. That may have been their unintentional legacy, but it was their greatest. So here I sit, with these big life questions. I turn 55 this summer. It's good to think about these things at any age because every day is a gift and our time here is unknown. I may not achieve great things, like being a caretaker of rare roses, but I know that how I live my life is more important. Now that I have grandchildren of my own, I think about how they will remember me when it's my turn to go. I hope they remember how I showed them love, and how I lived and shared God's truth. And I hope there will be flowers from the garden interwoven in their memories of me. Always flowers. We think they'll always be there, but then one day, they're not. Someday it'll be my turn. What will I be remembered for? What's my legacy? This new garden of mine has some old souls growing in it. I cringe at how they've been cared for, but the lilacs and the bridalwreath have a story and trigger memories for me, so they will stay and I will care for them. |
AuthorHi, I'm Tracy - horticulturist, beauty-seeker, Word-lover, and blessed to be the owner of Bella Botanica. I also love to write about plants, gardening, and about my faith journey. Thanks for reading! Archives
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