Sunday, June 22, 2008

Sunday Garden

These are the leaves of a callas lily along the rear border of my backyard. These plants are hand-me-downs from family, and they've been a long time greening. For a time, I wasn't sure they'd survive.

This foray into gardening is teaching me trust and patience. I've never been good at keeping plants alive; this time, however, I've been doing what I can--planting, fertilizing, watering--then stepping back and letting God do the rest.

So far, I've lost three plants out of dozens. I've transplanted two of the lost plants, hoping the innate hardiness of nature will take over and resurrect what appears to be dying.

Yesterday, I watched a show in which a father left his adult son on the steps of a courthouse and drove away, and I wondered what that character would be thinking when he did that. What did my parents think when they left me at school, at college, at the airport on my way to a foreign country? What would they think if I left the area where we all live now?

Uncertain health has made me rely on them more than I would have done otherwise. Dad and his wife are over here all the time. Mom checks in often. I am grateful. I love them. I also want to leave.

Could they trust that the hardiness of nature would take over, and that they--the gardeners--had done all they could; the rest is up to God?

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Keenan,

WARNING: You used gardening as a metaphor, but what follows is a mish-mash of clichés/metaphors that involve winged beasties. YOU WERE WARNED!!

When we leave our young 'uns out in the world to make their way in it, it is difficult to turn and walk away. We have cared for, protected, and nurtured them up until that point, and we are left with the fear that they'll somehow get beaten upon the rocks if we don't interfere. Alas, we must trust that we have taught them how to cope in the world and that a big, strong, loving God will fill in any gaps and sustain them in our absence. Nay, ALWAYS, whether we are there or not.

Letting the little chicks fly is hard even if they are adult "chicks" (or so I've been told). My little chicks are still LITTLE chicks, but when I've had to give them more slack on the apron strings, they've been fine. I've been the one left in tears torn between excitement for them and sadness that they need me a little less. At some point we parents must realize that for our chicks to soar with the eagles, they must take that leap and trust themselves. If we try to hold on, they'll panic and fall. After all, their wings are not strong enough to carry us too.

No matter where you go or what you do in life, it will be bittersweet for dear old Ma & Pa. They'll be proud of your growth and accomplishments, but a little sad at having to release their grasp a little more. Just trust in the same God that sustains you. He'll sustain them too. He's not a one-way God.

Wow, that WAS full of clichés, wasn't it?

NOTE TO OTHER READERS: I am NOT the writer in the family!! I break all the rules with no remorse! HA! --evil grin--

Bubba's Wife

KEANAN BRAND said...

Bubba's Wife (we're gonna have to come up with a better name than that), meet the Blogosphere; Blogosphere, meet my sister-in-law.

Winged beasties -- always a good start!

Ya know, I had not considered the idea that the chicks cannot carry the parents, or both will fall. Simple but profound. And, no, not cliched -- at least to me.

Thanks for the encouragement, and the reminder that God is, after all, in charge of everything, all the time.

willow said...

It is often hard for the gardeners to trust God to take over the young plants. They still worry. Always will worry.

Lavinia Ladyslipper said...

Keanan, I'm glad that you have others to help you tend to health matters...please take care as you have so much yet to accomplish, and your visitors in blogland need their 'adventures in fiction' fix on a regular basis. I see you have posted a new episode below; hurray!...shall read and comment....

Bachelor said...

Keanan,
What's up buddy? It's good that you have family there... and wanting to leave at the same time is very natural. I moved to where I am now because family was here. Now they have others requirements in their lives that caused them to move away. I really don't have anyone here except a couple of friends... at times, it gets very lonely, but I have to admit this blogging helps... very thought provoking post with a good pic..
Catch ya later,
The Bach

Jadesmith said...

Love the picture--and here's a story with a different focus from a friend of mine. An acquaintance of his who works in a family business once commented to him that he would like to move far away from where he was. When my friend replied, "But you are working for your brother!" he said, "you know, I love my family, but I think I'd love them better from a few hundred miles away."