Dear Grammy (or: "Zoe's not-so-secret Garden Part III")

Zoë's Garden Part III: Nature and Nurture


Dear Grammy,


I have few memories of you not tending to people around you, specifically me in fact. You have a special gift for making the person you're with feel like the center of your universe. But one of those rare memories I hold is of the times you would be in linen shorts and a sleeveless button down shirt, maybe with a sunhat or scarf on your head, shovel in hand, crouching down amidst azaleas, tending to your garden. I remember a happy, quiet peace about you in the garden. 


While I'm very happy for all the new convenience, safety, and simplicity in your new apartment lifestyle, it saddens me whenever I tell you about my yard and you lament no longer having your own to wander about. I wish you could just be here to garden with Sofia and I every day, and that's why I would love to share some photos of it with you. For you, I've specifically picked some photos with Sofia in it, because I know that's what you really love getting to see best. 


Our garden is filled with so many beautiful flowers and even some herbs and vegetables that we inherited. Even though I barely did a thing last summer to invest in this ground myself, I'm certainly reaping the benefits now of my predecessors' sweat and toil. So much white, yellow, red, and green springing up everywhere. Sofia and I love discovering something new every day we go out there. We can't get enough.

. . . even napping in the garden

I've never gardened with my daughter alongside me while I work before. I can't tell you how many sweet moments I've spent, lifting my head up while my hands are still in the dirt, catching her quietly investigating the contents of the grass or studying the meaning of the universe through plants. Gardening highlights for me how miraculous nature is, how little I do to aid in life coming forth, and similarly, how small but significant my hand is in Sofia's life too. Many of these plants would have been stifled under debris if I hadn't come through to clear them away, but they are otherwise growing on their own. So too with Sofia?

Well, maybe they could not grow so well completely on their own. I've certainly pulled my fair share of weeds out of these beds, heaping piles in fact. I've pulled unfortunately large amounts of weeds out of Sofia too. She spends half our time outside running around, grabbing huge handfuls of dirt out of my nicely prepared planters. It begins as a little competition between us, I'm turning the soil or filling a pot and she wants to grab my dirt away from me. She snatches it right off my shovel. But this is not meant just to foil my efforts. She runs that dirt quickly over to our garden gnome and gently offers it to his mouth, sometimes finishing off the act by giving him a little kiss on his beard. This process is one I find endearing. I figure I can spare some of my dirt for the sake of her pet. Perhaps she too is trying to nurture something she loves, just like me with my garden, and me with her. 
But then, she starts to grab handfuls and shoves them into her mouth, "Dirt!" And just as I begin to chase after her and try to wipe it all out and off, she's grabbing another handful and tossing that on top of her head, rubbing it into her hair and wiping it all over her clothes, "Dirt!" And so I run back and forth between tending my planters and tending my child. And so begins my role as disciplinarian.

Grammy, you were the one I always called whenever I was disciplined and felt mad about it, which was probably whenever I was disciplined. You listened and you let me cry. That's the joy in being the grandparent, right? You get to love on the kids and you don't have to be the disciplinarian anymore. But you were so consistent in telling me over and over that when my parents discipline me and set boundaries for me, it means they love me. And you were right. You could have just played "nice cop" to their "bad cop," but you backed them up 100% of the time and helped me accept the boundaries they set. And believe it or not, probably in part thanks to how you helped me look at things, I look back on my upbringing and feel thankful for my parents' discipline and for the scrapes their boundaries kept me safe from. 

Another more literal boundary we've been struggling with is our fence line. Not that we have much fence to speak of. Sofia could easily weasel through that sucker, but she doesn't quite know that yet. She does know that there is a whole new yard, and fields, and woods on the other side of that fence that she can reach through an opening in the middle. For the past couple weeks, she's been darting through that opening to run after blackbirds, dogs, and people on bikes. Several times each day, I chase her down. We get to the fence line, I crouch down, restraining her with my arms all about her, and I have a little talk with her about not leaving the fenced in area without Mommy. 

Well for a few days now, she's looked up to see that opening, looked at me, crept near to it, halted, and then run back to me, grabbing my hand and dragging me to and through it. I can't believe it. My discipline worked. She didn't decide to resent and hate me forever, she works within my rule and we have so much more fun now. I'm so glad you taught me that discipline done well is love, Grammy. Of course, it remains to see how well this will work out about 12 years from now . . . 

I think the new growth finally popping up out of these blankets of dirt give me a visual hint about the fruit of my nurture - with labor and patience, growth can come through in a few spots. And maybe, through time we're spending out in the garden together, Sofia is growing too. 

She's learning new words and how to identify colors (well color singular at least, we see a lot of green). She's spotting new bugs and how they crawl. She's unearthing new plants and taste-testing the weeds. She's struggling against my boundaries. She's figuring out how to share with me (dirt and other things too). She's getting her first tastes of cooperation, obedience, and patience. 
The garden has added this new dynamic to our relationship. In the garden, we've found a safe place to have a bit more space and independence from one another, a place to work side by side to a common end, a place to enjoy well earned breaks or moments of celebration for work done well, and a place to learn and grow together. 

It's a beautiful place, Grammy. I wish you could be with us to feel the warmth of the Maine sun, to picknick in our grass, to laugh at Sofia's antics, to hear the wave like sounds of wind rushing through our pine trees. But I hope you can enjoy these photos of Sofia in it at least. 


And I hope you know that I'm passing on a lesson or two that you taught me. More than that, I hope you know that I am grateful for the ways you made me who I am, ways that help me love my Sofia and help her to grow. I hope you know that in our garden, your labor of love is bearing sweet sweet fruit. 

Love,

Zoë Faith

Reader Request: Zoe's (not-so-secret) Garden (Part II)

Dear Erin,


I had so much I wanted to share with you about my garden, I've had to spread out my pictures and thoughts a bit. So here's part II of my garden report . . .


Part II: This is not my home

As we start to get some handle on where we expect real plants to spring up and where we have space to cultivate our own creations, Sofia and I have been hard at work weeding, preparing soil, planting seeds, and watering. 

Sofia pulling out dead stalks to make way for new growth
Child labor may be cheap, but it's not the most effective ;)

our most exciting new investment for the garden: 

our compost! 

naming suggestions welcome. 

there's so much work to do, but we have to take photo-breaks every now and then ;)

Our biggest project remains clearing out the wild overgrowth in the back of the yard. It is like a miniature forest of dead stalks, litered with so much trash that has blown into it over years. I've found over 15 balls for Sofia to play with. One tennis ball had been buried in there for so long that the fuzz had completely decomposed. It was entirely bald. 

It is completely understandable that what was once a beautiful and well loved garden plot would turn into such chaos when the property started getting rented out. I know at least the last family that lived here was double income with multiple kids, so I doubt they had any time to worry about the land they were going to leave within the year. I do not at all fault them for thinking, "this is not my home." 

That phrase is actually the main punchline of a chorus I've heard on the radio too much lately. It embodies this idea that Christians don't belong here, they're just waiting to get to Heaven. But as you and I have discussed, I recently read Surprised by Hope, by N.T. Wright, and it's really helped me view that eschatology (which you, divinity student that you are, would explain to me as "the theological study of the end of things") differently. You've read it, [or Lobsters, if you haven't, I hope you'll consider reading it!] so you know, but the point that's relevant here is about how Jesus was actually telling us that the Kingdom of God, Heaven, was present when He was here, and as His people, we are presently bringing Heaven into the world (this article actually articulated the point in a way that was helpful, and shorter than reading all of Surprised by Hope, if you're interested - or confused). When we are doing God's work, we bring about the Kingdom, see Jesus speaking in Luke 10:8-9

When you enter a town and are received, eat what they set before you, heal anyone who is sick, and tell them, 'God's kingdom is right on your doorstep!

[taken from the Message]

Wright explains that not only is Heaven here and now, when we're doing God's work, but also, when Jesus returns, it will be to transform this earth, and these bodies we live in to be like His resurrected body was here. (Lobsters, this was really heavy for me to take in, so don't just trust my notes, go through the book, it's worth it.) So what that means is, where I used to feel like, "this (earth) is not my home," and therefore disregarded the health of my physical body, or the way I treated the environment around me, I now have good theological reasons for investing in the eternal home that is here before me, that will be fully restored one day. 

I've decided to start living this out in the tiny step of investing in this home I'm renting. It is worth taking care of. So I'm pulling out the weeds and debris, I'm planting my own seeds, and I'm tackling that overgrowth little bits at a time, but with persistence. 

And to my surprise, our labor is already paying off. After a good rain, we went outside and discovered little signs of life breaking forth:

if i manage not to kill this, 
it will hopefully give us some squash

for Sofia, who LOVES green beans.

But I recently got the best encouragement I could have imagined for my gardening. Because the college owns the house, they also have technical responsibility for the yard. When a guy came through mowing the lawn, I gave him a friendly wave. He stopped his mower, and excitedly offered to give me a tour of my yard. I'd certainly found some treasures on my own, but he's apparently tended it for years and knew so much more than I would have ever figured out independently. Turns out, our house is the only fruit-bearing faculty home. We have plum, apple, and peach trees! And as we walked back toward the overgrowth, he told me it used to be this fabulous miniature strawberry field. We sifted through some of the weeds and sure enough, found these big beautiful green leaves of strawberry plants. He said these were the leaves of plants that had been well cultivated by their original gardeners. I'm so excited to watch them grow!

As we walked around back there, I was embarrassed by my giant piles I'd been raking together. I've been nervous that I was creating more work for him and his co-workers, creating obstacles for them to mow around or potentially making them feel obligated to clean up my mess [I am able to get the process started, but often get interrupted from seeing it through, due to the needs of a certain little person you know]. But you know what he said? He said, "oh no! It is just so great that someone finally cares enough to take care of these plants! I'm totally happy to help clear away your piles, I'll be back in a day or two with my truck!" He was so eager and delighted and I was so encouraged and empowered. And sure enough, a few days later, the piles were neatly cleaned up, despite constant rain.

Don't you think, what Jesus was saying in Luke was sort of the same thing? Whenever we love and care for one another and this creation He's made for us and allowed us to live in, that whenever we obey Him and do as the Father instructs, He is so delighted that we are in essence owning this as our home, because we are bringing forth and making visible the Kingdom of God here and now in part, what will one day reign in full. Even if we usually make a mess of things in our efforts, He's the knowledgeable gardener*, so happy to work alongside us and bring forth the good fruit. Maybe he's even happy when Sofia and I are out in our little garden together, loving each other while we work. It certainly helps this feel more like home!


I hope you enjoy these photos and thoughts. Thank you for taking a sweet interest in our garden!


Love,
zoe faith

Jeremiah 29:28

Therefore build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce.

*See John 20: ¹¹ Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb ¹² and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.

¹³ They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”

“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” ¹⁴ At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.

¹⁵ He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”

Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”

¹⁶ Jesus said to her, “Mary.”

She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).

Reader Request: Zoe's (not-so-secret) Garden (Part I)

My dear friend, and college cottage-mate, Erin, requested that I share an update on my garden. Gardening is one of the great thrills to my heart right now, Sofia and I can hardly force ourselves to stay indoors long enough to rest and refuel - even on rainy days, so I'm more than happy to oblige! 


Part I: Discovery 


I live in a house that has been a rental for some years. Our neighbors across the street have told me stories of how there used to be a fabulous garden in the back. You can see from the picture below that through a series of uninvested caretakers, what was once fabulous is now an overgrown wasteland of decaying confusion. BUT! I view that overgrowth as an exciting challenge.

view of the overgrowth from inside

My yard is surrounded by a fence that does absolutely nothing to conceal it from the heavy foot traffic that passes by, so while I feel the excitement Mary and Dickon must have had as they discovered  The Secret Garden, my garden is not so secret. And in fact, I feel a bit of extra pressure knowing that people are both watching my work and observing its results (especially the above mentioned neighbors, who themselves nurture one of the most famous and beautiful gardens in town). I try to focus on the fact that this is really my first garden, and its not even really mine, and whatever effort I put in will alleviate a visual blight of the untended overgrowth.


One month ago, I came home to this house after our Vermont trip and saw no signs of life, only opportunities for me to plant. But with each round of raking and weeding, I seem to unearth a whole new batch of colors and smells. I initially entered the garden with my own agenda, but clearly it has a life of its own. And again, I'm just getting things out of the way so the life can come forth. This winter's dead leaves layered on years upon years worth of debris that fell in the very same place blanket small little leaves, vines and stalks beginning to shoot up. Now, the yard is just bursting with eager production. 

yummy chives we snack on while we work

sunny flowers

How interesting that this gardening experience would play out in this way. I entered college such a planner. Erin, you may remember me sitting in our Cottage living room at my desk, scribbling away all my dreams and goals for my future and my deadlines for when they would all be realized. I was unexpectedly graduating a year early, and having had my life figured out ahead of time up until that point, I was in crunch mode to figure out the next ten-year plan. But ever since that season, I've been hitting curve balls. Early graduation, marrying a mathematician, not returning to Texas after school, move after move after move, winding up in Maine of all places? 


And I love my life. I can't imagine I could have planned it out any better from that Cottage desk than how it has actually taken shape. Sure, I wish our families were closer and that we had access to better Mexican food, but generally, this is great. And this has been the result of letting go of some control and instead, responding to the invitations God has presented for my life path. This is the hard but fruitful journey of faith.


I think that year in the Cottage, God was only just beginning to teach me that lesson, of letting go control, and stepping into the unknown. Having Sofia has certainly taken that lesson to the next level. I don't know what I expected out of motherhood, but I remember those first few months of her life, thinking to myself by about mid-day, "Wow, there is a new person calling the shots!" Responding to and shaping our days around her needs is so counter-intuitive to how I operate and it is so hard for me every single day, but it seems like its yielding results, so I keep humbling myself to someone else's plan for my days. I get myself out of the way so the natural little buds cropping up in her can open up and shine. 


I'll keep you posted on how it all develops . . .