Abundant harvest of homegrown tomatoes from our family garden in 2020.
Does anyone still remember the first quarter of 2020? When COVID-19 swept across the world, our lives were turned upside down. It felt as though we had entered another dimension of the universe. Nobody knew what would happen next. Schools closed. Offices shut down. Fear and uncertainty seemed to be everywhere.
What was a mother of four children, all in their teens and
tweens, supposed to do? All four were home, and we were simply trying to figure
out what to do with ourselves and how to move through days that no longer
looked anything like normal.
Then something happened that still intrigues me. My
then-15-year-old son became interested in gardening. He had watched me garden
for most of his life, but this time was different. He did not simply want to
watch; he wanted to be part of it.
And when he joined me,
he almost took over! He handled many of the hard parts, and we gardened side by
side that year. My tomatoes did better than they had in any previous season. We
harvested bountifully, and yes, that was rewarding, but the harvest was only
one part of what the garden gave us.
The greater gift was
spending quality time with my teenage son while doing something productive. We
planted tiny seeds and watched them push through the soil and grow before our
eyes. We watered, tended, worked, and learned together. In the middle of a frightening,
confusing season, we bonded in a way we hadn't before.
Gardening became one of the ways we kept our sanity through
the COVID season. While so much around us felt uncertain, the garden gave us
something steady to tend. It gave our hands work to do, our minds somewhere
peaceful to rest, and our family something hopeful to watch grow.
These photographs from
2020 appeared in my Facebook memories today and carried me back to that time.
They also reminded me how temporary seasons are. While COVID was happening, it
felt as though it would never end. But eventually, that season changed. We lost
much, and people everywhere lost so much more. Yet, by God's grace, we kept
moving forward.
Hard times. Grit. Hope.
Resilience. Grace. They all lived together in that season, and, somehow, they
also lived in our garden.
People say change is the only constant thing in nature.
Seasons come, and seasons go. Sometimes, when a difficult season turns the
whole world upside down, God plants a small garden in the middle of it, and
uses it to grow something in us too.
Seasons come and go. Sometimes God plants a garden in the middle of a hard one, and uses it to grow us too.
Garden & Reflections offers a glimpse into the experiences
and everyday lessons that shape me beyond the therapy room. These personal
reflections are shared thoughtfully while honoring the professional boundaries
of the counseling relationship.