The growing season is certainly upon us. Conversations range from how bad the mosquitoes are to how hard the hay is to get up with any quality. Weather that looks like it will stretch to a few good drying days, seems to collapse into chances of showers and thunderstorms. In the meantime weeds and gardens grow and produce, seemingly always with that chance of hail or heavy rain. 

Berries have produced well this year, with reports of large amounts of Saskatoon’s, strawberries and raspberries as well as others stored away, or made into tasty treats like pies and cheesecakes  . . . . .  

With the moist conditions comes more disease in plants and more foot-rot in cattle.

As I was picking raspberries this morning the plentiful berries reminded me how many things God gives us in such abundance. 

I remember back to a time when I was quite small and I used to help my Mom pick raspberries. To me they were a jungle of raspberry bushes, she had planted in neat rows, and I went into them and was in the shade of the bushes as I picked the berries, kind of a neat memory. I also remember one dog we had who was very good at picking the berries on her own — seeming to know that the dark red ones were ripe. Our present dog seems to hang around a lot when I am picking these days and catches them when I toss the odd berry her way. 

Looking after the potato plants takes me back to early days when my grandpa would hill his potatoes with his hoe and how in his later years he would go out to the garden with two hoes at a time — to support his walking. I remember him saying such phrases: “if I make it to next year . . . . . I will do such and such in my garden . . . . .” It seemed quite shocking to a perhaps 7-year -old, but not as much now. 

My large patch of dahlias reminds me of a sister-in -law no longer with us — but still the dahlias grow and multiply. The corn plants remind me of an early career as a summer corn -picker on the family farm, picking for local grocery stores and for our road-side stand. By the way we sold it then for one dollar /dozen. This makes it seem like a long time ago.

A dusty-rose lily reminds me of a dear friend, gone quite a few years — and how I treasure the memory of her and how graciously she aged and accepted wherever she was at in her life, in its ups and downs, coming limitations, losses and aging. 

My patch of rhubarb reminds me of my Mom  and her yard as well as the farm where she came from, that I visited as a child — feeding the old horse Smoky his carrot, or toting the black cat around in a wicker baby carriage . . . . 

Planting my onions - each year reminds me of a story of how a friend of mine entrusted her husband and small daughter with planting the onions and they were carefully planted — even though they were upside down. Checking for plump pea pods reminds me of a beloved dog who would beg for a pod, only to put it between her paws and skillfully pop open the pods and strip the peas out and carefully eat them. 

The beans remind me of my Mom’s yellow wax beans that seemed to always need picking. 

When we plant a garden, we figure out what our family actually likes to eat — and plant accordingly. Every stage of the garden has its wonders. The seeds sprout, the young plants grow and flower and then produce. We pick and eat, or process and store away. 

Weeds need to be worked at all the time. Every day, some need to be pulled out. Sometimes a concerted effort needs to be made, perhaps with a rototiller, or a hoe. Sneaky tall weeds need to be pulled within the rows before they go to seed. Some weeds are very aggressive, like portulaca — that seems to produce the most seeds of all, and produces for years and years, in the same garden plot.

It got me thinking that perhaps life is like a garden. 

We choose what we may plant, what we want to grow. We also need to take the time to pull out the weeds that we do not want growing — not only so they do not produce seeds to make future gardens difficult, but so they do not choke out the good things we are trying to grow. 

Anger and resentment can choke our relationships, if we do not root it out and deal with it. 

Love and patience need to be allowed to grow, as well as hope and faith and peace. 

Greed and selfishness, apathy, laziness, are all things that we need to pull and not allow to grow. Fear needs to be dealt with to allow faith to take root . . . . 

Worry needs to be rooted out - so that peace is allowed to grow. 

This leads me to thoughts of the parable of the sower, and how some seed falls on hard ground, where the birds eat it. Some fell on rocky ground where it could not get rooted, some fell among thorns, grew and were choked out, and some fell on good soil

“It came up, grew and produced a crop, multiplying thirty, sixty, or even a hundred times“ (Mark 4)

These are just a few thoughts and memories that have come today as I work in my garden and put pen to paper, the bringing back of memories, and a little deeper look at life and faith. 

All the best with your gardens, growing, producing and weeding, and all the best in your growing, and producing the fruits of Gods Spirit - in your living. 

Barb Alston , Melita Presbyterian Church  tbalston@mymts.net