Tuesday, June 2, 2009

In the Garden

If you think you're about to be treated to lovely photos of my gardening endeavors, think again.  Some women enjoy gardening.  I'm not among that group.  Zoomer makes frequent references to "playing in the dirt."  (I'd like to smack 'er.)  As I told her, the word "play" never comes to mind in my gardening.  Think chain gang.  Slave labor.  But to appease any photo junkies, here are a couple of shots of Zoomer's lush gardens:



With that out of the way, ...

I realized one recent day, as I was crawling around in the garden, that I'd fallen into praying.  I know being on one's knees and praying are perfect companions.  Okay, gardening isn't all bad.  Later, I also realized that In the Garden has been a favorite hymn of mine since childhood, when I didn't really know the Lord, but He knew me.  I enjoyed pondering all the associations springing from my weeding chores.

Yesterday, I just didn't spend that much time in the garden.  It was insufferably hot, and the sun was ablaze upon my selfingness.  I hadn't been in the pool yet since its fill, so I traded my gloves and knee pads for my swimsuit and took my '09 maiden plunge.  My favorite floaty disintegrated over the winter, so I was consigned to floating without aid.  I can do that very well: 1) My mother taught me to swim (and float) when I was 3 years old, so I've had years to perfect this feat; 2) think of skimming fat from broth — it's right there on top.  (Okay, stop thinking about that now.)

So I was having a moment.  And what arose in this moment — cool, relaxing, refreshing, floating, blue sky, dots of clouds, warmth from the sun — was the swelling in my heart of a hymn.  This time, it was How Great Thou Art.  I didn't sing it aloud.  I know it's okay with God that I have an Alfalfa singing voice, but I just wasn't going to do that to my boys.  I could sing it in my soul, and it would be pretty to the Lord, and it could even be pretty to my internal ears:

Oh Lord, my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds Thy hands have *!THLUNK!*

My head bashed into the side of the pool.

Rude.

Of course, the very next line would have been, "I see the stars..."  How fitting is that?  God was listening, and He knew exactly where I was.  I like that.

Mayhap I should have stayed in the garden a bit longer.


He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.  He telleth the number of the stars; he calleth them all by their names.  Great is our Lord, and of great power: his understanding is infinite.  ~Psalm 147:3-5

2 comments:

Annie T. said...

Great story, CarolineNot! How Great Thou Art was one of my Granny's favorites, & since has become one of mine. I can't sing worth a hoot, but somehow I feel like a songbird when I'm singing that song & don't care what raucous noise anyone else is hearing coming from my lungs. Must be the Lord inside of me. I love that feeling! Sorta like crashing into the side of the pool & then smiling about it. :)

Laurel said...

Hillarious. Just goes to show God does have a sense of humor!