Monday, May 13, 2013

Life in the Garden: Weeds

I'm outside in the heat of a cooler-than-normal May day thanking God that we didn't put our plants into the early spring soil this weekend.

Last night was so cold, many of the delicate plants probably would have suffered.

Instead of sowing into the ground this afternoon, I'm heaving the hoe heavy into the dirt, trying to clear the garden of dandelions and the like.

My husband insisted that we didn't need to cut the weeds out with a sod cutter even though they grew in wild and dense, a field of greens and yellows spread thick across the plot of land designated for harvest and bounty.

Just last weekend he insisted that I could take the hoe and lightly sink it into the ground and the weeds would come up easy.

But that was in the mostly clean part of the garden.

I'm standing in sprawling cover of them, and these roots, they go deep.

I'm shouldering that hoe higher and higher and higher and sinking it deeper and deeper and deeper into the earth, and still, the roots keep going.

My mentor sat at my dining room table a few hours earlier, early morning sun casually spilling in through the window, as I led her into the early-spring garden of my heart, a place that's half overgrown, a mess of weeds rooted deeply over a good chunk. I cried, shared that it seems like winter has been forever long and when's the frost going to fade into dew? When's the weeding season going to come to a close for now? I'm so ready for the weeds to be gone.

She doesn't answer with precise time but she says something about how everything takes time.

Of course, I'd said, she was right. It would take time to clear my heart of grief, to clear my mind of the trauma of losing three babies in just over a year's time, to pull out the roots anxiety and even the fear that settles into the heart after such losses. And rightly so. Those achings linger long in a mother's heart after a winter like this.


I'm better than I was two months ago to the day. Worlds better even now than just two Mondays ago.

Time. It takes time.

I stand in the soil, sink my feet into its crumbled rocks, wipe the wind-blown hair from my face and take note of the tiny section I've cleared of weeds during the span of an entire hour.

It doesn't seem like much, but I can feel in my muscles the hard work of clearing deeply rooted weeds.

And, tomorrow, I'll clear out some more.


  1. Oh, Hyacynth. I am always amazed by your talent with words and metaphors... So beautiful. I hope and pray that spring comes to your heart soon. Remember that long before the first shoots of spring appear, there is much growth occurring underground. You are doing the underground work right now. It's not pretty: but it's vital for the garden to thrive. Sending you love.

  2. This is beautiful and so are you, darling.

  3. ((hugs)), sweet friend. yes - time and just one step at a time. and, once again, your words speak what my own heart understands and knows. and, let me tell you from my own places of fire and storms, that He really is there and He will lead you out to a place of His perfect timing. (which I know is so very hard to wait for, but He will also give you the peace in the waiting.)

  4. I am positive that your strength outmatches winter's grasp. And your roots are stronger than the ones that you can pull up out of the ground. You are rooted in love and you grow in His spirit. I hope that today you have peace. It is Tuesday after all. Everyone likes Tuesday! :)

    Hugs, prayers, and much love!

  5. I haven't posted a response until now because there are really no words that can be said that wouldn't have the possibility of sounding trite or sounding like they're being said just to be said.

    You are such an inspiration and your honesty and strength astound me.

  6. I absolutely adore this, Hy. So beautifully put. It's exactly how life goes - and kudos to focusing on the small portion you accomplished rather than on everything else around it. Keep digging and healing and clearing. *hugs* to you, always.

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