On clearing away the brambles.

Gardening doesn't come naturally to me.
I think I may have blogged about it before.

A few years ago, 
my friend who is a keen gardener,
bought me some strawberry plants
and a special strawberry planter 
for my birthday.

I hadn't been very well at the time
and she knew that there was something about gardening that helps.

I duly planted them 
but didn't look after them very well
so we ended up with about two strawberries in total.
The planter has sat mocking me ever since.

Until today
when I filled it with fresh compost
and planted the strawberry plants
I'd bought at B & Q 3 weeks ago.



And that was it.
I was off!

With my gardening gloves
and my new compost
and my lavender plant.

Then me and my secateurs went to war on the brambles.
Why on earth did God invent brambles?
They wind,
they choke,
and they get everywhere.
And by 'eck their thorns hurt!

I have a camellia plant that my in-laws bought us when we moved in to this house.
It blooms every year about this time.
Beautiful pink flowers.
They don't last long but when they bloom
it's a poignant memorial of Chris's parents.

This year we've only had two flowers on it.
I'd thought it was budding,
but when I looked closer
the brambles were all over it.
And where I'd thought it was budding, 
it was just leaves.
Bigger isn't always best in the gardening world.


After removing some of the junk
I'm still hopeful for a few more blooms, 
but if not,
I know it will come again next year.

The analogies of gardening aren't lost on me.
Especially at the moment.
The importance of proper care.
Of  looking beneath the surface to see what's really happening.
And of course,
getting rid of the things that bind,
that catch us,
and strangle us in their grip,
over and over again.

After my efforts in the garden I was pooped.
So I lit some candles
drank my coffee
and spent some time 
thinking,
reflecting, 
praying.


Sheila Walsh writes
"Jesus didn't come to get you out of the pain of life,
he has come to live in you through it."

I want to be a beautiful,
blooming,
chamellia.
But life sometimes creeps up from behind
and threatens to choke me in its grip.

Jesus describes Father-God as The Gardener.
The gentlest,
most-careful
and tender remover of brambles.
We can trust His tender hands
until we bloom again.





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