Sharing plants is one of the many joys of being a gardener. The tradition is especially strong in the South. In fact, some varieties known as passalong plants aren’t readily available for purchase. Instead they’ve survived for decades by being passed along from one generation of horticulture enthusiasts to the next.
Although I don’t have anything particularly difficult to come by in my garden, I’m blessed to have numerous plants given to me by fellow plant lovers: hosta from an aunt who had the greenest of thumbs; a hydrangea grown from a cutting of a friend’s father’s plant; multiple trilliums dotting the woods, offspring of a lone rescue plant; mayapples, spurred violets, several varieties of ferns. The list would be quite extensive if I catalogued each leafy gift. And then there are all the treasured items Ray planted that continue to flourish some 20 years after his passing.
Tending these perennials and woodies, anticipating their return each year and watching them grow gives me a great deal of pleasure, pleasure which is multiplied by remembering the people and circumstances which led to them being in my garden. I also think of plants I’ve shared now growing in friends’ gardens and I smile.
As much as I relish exchanging plants, I recognize I’ve been entrusted with something much more precious to pass along: my faith. Although trusting God and acknowledging Jesus as Savior and Lord are gifts only God can give[1], He commissions us to tell others about his great love.[2] Our first responsibility is to our families. We’re advised to teach our children his commandments as we go about our daily lives[3] and to bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.[4] But our mandate to reach others with the Good News doesn’t end there. We are to be light, living in such a way that we glorify our Father[5], always prepared to give an answer to those who wonder where our hope comes from. [6]
In fact, when we consistently live out our faith, God can use even the smallest details to reach others. I’m reminded of this when I recall a long-ago conversation with a business associate. I casually remarked I was glad our meeting had ended earlier than planned so I could make it to Bible study that evening. Several weeks later she asked if she could talk to me about my beliefs, having been encouraged to do so by my offhanded comment regarding Bible study.
In his first letter to the Corinthians, the apostle Paul mentions different roles we might assume in others’ spiritual journeys. We may be called to sow seeds, to water,[7] to weed . . .
. . . Ok, I added the part about weeding, but I think its importance can be inferred from Jesus’ parable of the sower since the seeds that sprouted among the thorns were soon overcome by their weedy cohorts. Similarly, faith may be smothered by the worries of this life and become unfruitful [8], but I digress . . .
. . . In spite of the great privilege we have to labor in God’s fields, doing our part to ensure a plentiful harvest, Paul goes on to make it clear that God alone is the One who brings about growth.[9] Likewise, Jesus referred to himself as the true vine, his Father as the Gardener, and we, his followers, as the branches. As long as we abide in him we will produce much fruit, but apart from him we can do nothing.[10]
I cherish the passalong plants in my garden and the friends who gave them to me. Even more, I treasure those who’ve planted, watered and weeded my spiritual garden and the blessing of doing the same in the lives of my fellow sojourners. May we hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, considering how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds[11] as we make our way most assuredly back to the Garden, for He who promised is faithful.
[1] Ephesians 2:8-9
[2] Matthew 28:18-20, Mark 16:15
[3] Deuteronomy 6:4-9
[4] Ephesians 6:4
[5] Matthew 5:
[6] 1 Peter 3:15-16
[7] 1 Corinthians 3:5-6a
[8] Matthew 13:3-9, 18-23; Mark 4:1-9, 14-20; Luke 8:4-8, 11-15
[9] 1 Corinthians 3:6b-7
[10] John 15:5
[11] Hebrews 10:23-24
Psalm 103 is one of my favorite chapters in the Bible. Verses 13 and 14 are especially dear to me: “As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers we are dust.”
My devotional reading that night included these insights from James Packer: “There is unspeakable comfort in knowing that God is constantly taking knowledge of me in love, and watching over me for my good. There is tremendous relief in knowing that his love toward me is utterly realistic, based at every point on prior knowledge of the worst about me, so that no discovery now can disillusion him about me in the way I am so often disillusioned about myself, and quench his determination to bless me.”
But my story was far from over. On January 28th, a mere two days after that fateful meeting, I contacted the admissions office at a local technical college and started the enrollment process to study horticulture. Six months later, my first grandchild was born. Joshua was present when I received my Environmental Horticulture diploma in December 2012. Two more grandchildren, Lyla and Emma, have joined our family. My days are full and my interests are many. I am blessed to have meaningful relationships. I am thankful.
When I choose pieces to add, I usually look for ones I can connect with. This year’s additions include “First Christmas Eve Service” (for baby Emma), “Letters to Santa” (a Victorian version of granddaughter Lyla) and “Lovebirds” (‘nuff said).
She’d sent two pictures of a Japanese maple I donated to the Gardens in memory of Ray. In spite of the cloudy day, it shone forth in all its fall splendor. Planted on April 19, 2013, the sixteenth anniversary of Ray’s Homegoing, the tree sits at the edge of the Koi pond, one of grandson Joshua’s favorite places at SGG.
Family and friends, many of whom still refer to our wedding as the hottest they’ve ever attended, looked on as we said our vows and pledged ourselves to each other no matter what came our way. We were young and optimistic. Although we had a number of pre-marital counseling sessions with two different pastors, like most newlyweds we went into our marriage expecting more better than worse, more health than sickness. And the idea of death parting us? Well, that possibility seemed decades in the future.
A second daughter, Jessie, joined our family a few days after our sixth anniversary. In 1991 the company I worked for decided to transfer their carpet group to Georgia. Ray was fully supportive of the move. We put down roots and settled into our “raise the kids” house the following year.
Some weeks after Ray’s passing, I contacted Focus on the Family to request materials on grieving and widowhood. The woman who answered my call was so kind. I explained what had happened and told her I felt like a part of me was missing. I’ll never forget her reply: “Over the years you were married you and your husband became one and part of you is missing.” God had undeniably knit Ray and I together as we sought to honor Him by loving and serving each other and raising the children He blessed us with.
She starts to fidget as soon as she feels my arms (and herself) move away from my body and works up to a full-on wail by the time I get her into her bed. I quickly cover her with a soft blanket and begin to rub her back and pat her bottom to ease the transition. Inevitably one tiny hand reaches for her mouth and extracts her pacifier. As of now this is a one-way maneuver – she hasn’t quite figured out how to put it back. The result: more fussing. In an attempt to keep her from dislodging her paci, I offer her one of my fingers to hold as she dozes back off.
Siblings Joshua and Lyla will offer Emma one of theirs from time to time and then exalt, “Look! She’s holding my finger. She likes me!”
Back 2 the Garden 