Sowing Hope

Anne Lamott wrote, "I heard a preacher say recently that hope is a revolutionary patience; let me add that so is being a writer." I thought of this line today, as I was preparing a garden bed for a very late planting of winter salad mix, and will add, "so is being a gardener." Even in southern MD, November 5th is too late for planting anything but garlic... but, why not? What do I have to lose but a few seeds? And, perhaps I will gain fresh greens at least through early winter, if the row cover provides enough protection through the coming freezes.

The author of the book of Hebrews wrote, "Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Faith is that revolutionary patience that believes that God is at work, even when we can't fathom what he is up to and what he is working to accomplish in us. Determining to trust is not all that removed from planting. Both require determination and work, both must wait for evidence that we have not hoped in vain, both need us to weed away hindrances to growth and both, when we are patient, bring about a bountiful harvest. 

I spend much of my gardening days now winding down the season, removing frost-killed plants, adding compost and mulching the empty beds.  At this time of year, it requires a good measure of faith to picture the garden in spring, filled with tender seedlings holding the promise of another year. The garden and I both are tired, ready for a slower pace and some well earned rest, but we are not finished yet. Next year's bounty depends on my labor now and the soil organisms making use of what I feed them. Soon enough the ground will freeze and rest will come and there will be energy again to look towards spring.

An old friend wrote me yesterday that the Pennsylvania land conservancy for which I still do occasional landscape consulting is looking for someone local to take over the service. And I completely fell apart at reading her words…emotions of grief and fear of loss of meaning suddenly gripping my heart.  Even though I knew that this prospect is what is best for the conservancy, I felt like it wasn't best for me at all.  I feared losing the connection and what has seemed like a thin lifeline to central PA.

But maybe that is exactly God’s intent…what do I know?  After thinking more clearly last night, I have some different feelings…maybe even feelings of relief and of adventure.  I’ve been thinking, now and then, of adventure lately…that maybe all my adventures of this life are not yet over and that more await.  Holding on to what is safe is not the way to find them, but letting go and seeing where life and God take me seems the more positive approach.  Holding on to the conservancy and my involvement, hoping that nothing changes until I get back again someday, picking up where I left off, now feels like a narrow and restricting kind of mindset.

 Yes, there is fear in letting go, isn’t there? I like knowing what I can count on and where I can be of use and how.  But what if something wonderful awaits, instead? I am slowly, slowly being dragged towards the possibility that  more is waiting for me than I realize and to letting go of my hold on what use to be. Still, I want to have a plan for the future, a goal to work towards, and right now I don’t. It hasn't shown itself, as of yet, just as the seeds I planted yesterday are not yet visible.

So, if God and life are moving me away from my old familiar role, then that is the fork I will follow and believe that for the conservancy and for me, it is the right path. I’ll continue walking down the one set in front of me, whether I know where it is taking me or not…In the words of the Wailin' Jennys, “It’s a long and rugged road, and we don’t know where it’s headed, but we know it’s going to get us where we’re going. And when we find what we’re looking for we’ll drop these bags and search no more, cuz its going to feel like heaven when we’re home.”