Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ.
Colossians 3:23-24

Dear Readers,

July 1 marks the eleventh anniversary of my start in the blogging world. Buoyed by a lifelong love of writing, years of journaling, and a desire to tell others about God’s faithfulness, I began Back 2 the Garden. I wasn’t sure if anyone would be interested in reading what I wrote or how long I would continue. All I knew was that God had given me a lifetime of examples of His goodness and an ability to craft stories, an ability I longed to use for His glory.

Writing can be a lonely endeavor. There have been many times when my words were met with silence, and I wondered if they mattered or if I should even keep writing. Inevitably, during those times, the Lord would nudge someone to comment on how one of my posts had helped them, and I would keep writing, reminding myself that I’m responsible for using the gift God has given me, trusting Him for the outcome.

So, here I am, eleven years and nearly 300 posts later, still plugging along. I like to think that my writing has improved over the years, as I’ve taken classes, practiced my craft, and labored over finding just the right words to convey the message behind each post. Still, the goal of glorifying God and encouraging others remains the same.

Some of you have been reading my posts from the beginning, while others of you are more recent visitors. Regardless of your tenure, thank you! I pray you’ll always leave feeling happy you stopped by, having found at least one seed of hope-filled truth to plant in your spiritual garden.  

And here, with a few edits, is the post that started it all on July 1, 2014:

Consider it pure joy

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.
James 1:2-3

It was February 1998, and I was feeling anything but joyful. Ten months before, my beloved husband, Ray, had died of a massive heart attack a few weeks after his 39th birthday. Even though I was a rational person and knew all too well the details of what had happened, on some level, I maintained a protective mantle of denial. I couldn’t accept or fathom how he could go to work one sunny spring Saturday and never return home to me and our two young daughters. But bit by bit, the reality dripped into my soul, creating an underlying sadness that colored many of my days.

In preparing for Ray’s funeral, I wrote a letter to him, which one of our pastors read during the service. Among other comments, I stated that he’d not only left a lasting legacy in the lives of our daughters, but also in the beauty of our garden. You see, Ray had a horticulture degree, and he planted many interesting things in our yard. He would tell me about the special plants he selected and teach me their names. Although he didn’t shun better-known plants like pansies and daffodils, he was also interested in having unique items. When several of his horticulture colleagues paid a visit and walked the garden with me after Ray died, oohing and ahhing over various specimens, I took note all over again how special that part of his legacy was. I also recognized how important it was for me to learn how to take care of it; otherwise, it would only be a matter of time before it was gone.

And so that February day found me outside, preparing to remove the blanket of leaves that still enshrouded the planting beds, with an aching in my heart as I longed for Ray and wished he were there to help me remove those leaves. As I started clearing the beds, I noticed a number of the perennials Ray planted were beginning to emerge from the soil. Seeing those plants and knowing they had persevered through the cold, dark winter gave me a glimmer of hope. If they could make it through that stark season, maybe I could survive my season of darkness.

Little did I know, gardening would become my passion, providing many moments of hope and healing, as well as a very real connection to Ray. Not only has God faithfully provided for me and my family since Ray’s death, but He has ministered to me over and over again through the beauty of his creation. While “playing in the dirt”, I’ve been reminded of his promises, seen tangible examples of Scriptural principles, and found solace for my soul.

This blog is born of a desire to share some of what I’ve learned spiritually and horticulturally. I hope you’ll come back to the garden with me.