Gardens settle my heart. When I was forced to move, my wise friend and sister told me,
“Laurie you need a place to dig in the dirt.”
And so began my therapy.
It was a hard deadline.
Two barns, a garage, a basement, fifteen rooms,
forty-plus years of life had to be vacated .
Remnants of eight grandparents, four business offices, a burned-down National Stock Yards mingled with three daughters’ possessions, one collector’s whims, a survivalist’s hoarding
PLUS the accumulation of one tiny sentimental Mama.
Everything had to be shoveled out.
When you move, you must touch every single thing.
After my 40-year love betrayed and abandoned me,
touching every memory was excruciating.
I had to pack. I had to leave. There was no spouse to help.
I climbed into my sweatpants and worked.
I was leaving behind gardens heaped with flowers. Each had been lovingly planted.
There were walkways and bricks laid on pregnant days.
There were stone walls built with a toddler in tow.
My heart had lost love. Now it was losing place.
God….I needed hope and encouragement.
I packed boxes, moved furniture and hauled refuse. I burned old files and packaged keepsakes.
I swept up hidden mouse nests and clinging cobwebs.
After one long day, I gazed at my back yard. The new homeowners had said I could take plantings and some stone and brick.
I simply could not leave these pieces of myself behind.
Shovel in hand, off I went.
I loaded up a half-track cart with pathway bricks. I moved limestone borders and bucketed iris.
I captured lilies and bagged seeds. Bricks were stacked in my trunk.
Buckets and rock piles lined my driveway.
I had a problem, however. I was moving to a rental home.
Where would I go with all these treasures?
When my new landlord found out I was interested in gardening, he invited me to dig up my rental back yard. He even said I could start digging before my lease started.
So – my Healing Garden began .
Stones and brick – bulbs and seeds – rakes and shovels were hauled to a new location.
One crisp fall day I dug and dumped dirt, bordering my garden with stone and a tiny brick walkway.
The project calmed my confused mind. Dirt lodged on my weary hands.
I was surrounded with mud, but I felt clean, fresh hope.
It was so much simpler to place stones and move dirt
than to figure out lost love and broken hearts.
I attacked my garden project with gusto.
Here was something I could create.
It was important to create something when
life as I knew it was being torn down.
God and I created my humble garden.
Today… I look at my garden in amazement. The garden has gone through four additions, including a bricked patio with seating for the perfect Teddy Bear Tea party. (All interested toddlers invited. )
My garden is always a surprise – God changes it’s character with the whim of the seed drop and rainfall. I am never disappointed.
I truly do not care what grows in my garden, as long as bees approve and I can see the beauty.
I appreciate every single flower which pops up.
Recently, Colorado sunflowers surprised me after I had been away a month. They’d grown taller than me. Right now they nod cheerfully and remind me of my daughter.
Garden healing continues.
Like in the song….I come to the garden alone…
…and I find peace.
🎶 I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on roses
And the voice I hear falling on my ear
The son of God discloses
And he walks with me and he talks with me
And he tells me I am his own
And the joy we share as we tarry there
None other has ever known
🎶 🎶 🎶
God promised His people gardens in Isaiah 51:3.
God’s people had been conquered. They were devastated…kinda like me…but God made some promises.
I love the message of hope…and gardens…found in Isaiah 51:3
The Lord will surely comfort Zion
and will look with compassion on all her ruins;
He will make her deserts like Eden,
her wastelands like the garden of the Lord.
Joy and gladness will be found in her,
thanksgiving and the sound of singing.
– Isaiah 51:3
Thanks, God, for my garden healing.