I’m living through the most rambunctious Spring our gardening business has ever seen. Being the mom in a “mom and pop” type company, it’s been overwhelmingly busy for me. Stretched like Gumby, my mind feels crammed full and spilling over like an overstuffed laundry hamper. Seems like I need a profound upgrade in my ability to multi-task and manage and focus. I’ve struggled to make space enough to fit it all together in a nice, neat package. So far, that would be a no-go. An objective observer might be reminded of an “I Love Lucy” episode…. the candy-making assembly line shenanigans. The candy is coming too fast to wrap and I just can’t swallow anymore.
Home is not a quiet retreat from the storm; the haven-making falls to me. Life is bustling everywhere… kids (and employees) juggling college end-of-semester stress and final exams, dogs drinking too much pond water and suffering digestive woes, my own gardens not tending themselves. The daily challenges of working with my husband of 28 years are equally rewarding and crazy-making. My muscles ache… hands and heart get sore, too.
Noting my filth and fatigue after long hours building her new rock gardens this week, a customer remarked sweetly, “honey, I’ll just bet you spend your evenings in the hot tub with a glass of wine.” I smiled and nodded, too tired to form an honest response that wasn’t crispy around the edges.
I love our work and I understand seasons. Designing and building gardens still engages and tugs at my creativity. But I’m homesick for my pens and paints. I process and pray so much through my art and writing….I feel hamstrung when busyness and fatigue crowd them out. I miss the peaceful-rest-easy-ness that rolls over me when I hit a vein and the juice begins flowing….spreading over me like mist. And I miss producing something that doesn’t have to be watered and weeded and maintained. .
Longing for that fresh clean laundry-billowing-on-the-clothesline feeling, I’m stirred to look into the eyes of Love and believe one simple thing. Just this: God gets me. Cares. And loves me in all of my parts. I can trust Him. All of my air is because of this. As I drop my guard and lean into this idea, even if awkwardly, heaviness rolls off my shoulders and my mind untangles. Soaking it in, my thoughts are rearranged. Spaces open. Lighter and roomier (and smelling of Downy and sunshine), I head back into the wild that is my life right now. Seasons will change; I want to be here now.