I bet you’ve been in my shoes at some point in your life — seeing in your mind what you have planned for a project, but everyone around you can’t picture it or get stuck on what it looks like right now. You know, the ugly stage of a project… the part of the process where even you are asking yourself, is this really going to work out the way I had planned? What if I forgot something? But, stay the course — good things will come if you can ride out this part of the project and get to the other side.
Since my January update, I’ve been between things for family, medical, and work. Several of the projects I rattled off in my year-list seem more like a ‘some day’ type of dream, but not the garden. I’ve been picturing it in my mind, daydreaming over logistics of how to tackle the whole thing, using small breaks to research and just absorb what others have done to create a cottage garden.
I started with collecting cardboard — my family is super patient with me, knowing I had a reason for hoarding all the boxes that came in from shipments, groceries, and even some given to me by friends and work. I was just waiting for the right time to start the process, which finally came toward the end of February.
Since then, we’ve been hanging out in the very ugly stage of what I have planned. I honestly worried my neighbors would tell the city I’d started adding trash to my front yard. But, I kept plugging away and it’s finally starting to take shape that others can see the essence of what I’m working toward.
It’s taken a month to get it to this point. I have to take things slow so that I don’t wear myself out. But even with working slowly, the progress is happening.
I know I’ve written about it before — the inner tension that seems to poke at me. Hurry up! Don’t wait too long. Why not just get it all done in one day? My mind runs this kind of dialogue because I’m still caught up in the expectations of a world that thinks ‘time is money’ or that hustle is a badge of honor even when it’s twisting you from the inside out.
I’ve found myself in these moments plopping down where I am. Yep – right in the middle of the cardboard, mulch, or whatever else I’m doing right then. And while I sit and take deep breaths, I lean into my connect with God:
Jesus, take these lies away. Help quiet my heart and protect my mind. Remind me that I am not here to perform, but to embrace this gift of creating with my hands, nurturing seeds into blooms, and releasing my worries and fears to you while I do. I am not held back by my current limitations – You give me strength to complete what I can a bit at a time. There is no deadline.
These quiet garden moments are my way of taking back a piece of myself against chronic pain. Even if I have to go slow, I make a little more progress each time. It might be one bag of mulch, or it might be twenty on a good day. It may be just watching the sun stretch over the space and planning the placement for plants where they will thrive the most. Asking for help and spending time with someone else, giving them insight into my vision. It’s seeing the space evolve over time.
The biggest part, though, is knowing that there is never a deadline because there’s never an end. Each season will flow into the next, the plants will grow and wither, and new growth will rise from the aged stalks to bring forth new life.
So why rush?
Why the hurry?
Why get in a tizzy to have something finished all in one weekend, but then feel it for the next three weeks?
It’s not necessary for me or you to break ourselves just to feel like we’ve proven our worth or that our contribution is just as good as everyone else’s. We are not less, even in these seasons of healing.
It’s time to focus on Jesus’ quiet whisper to find rest and peace, rather than accept the world’s loud trumpeting for instant gratification.
It’s time to stay the course and embrace the small nuances of letting our senses be open: the pungent weight and texture of soil in your hands, the breeze dancing and twirling wood chips into the air, the crisp scent of cut grass, the sun kissing your skin, and the sweat from working that makes you proud of what you’ve done.
It’s waking up each day and going to bed with the same image in your mind of a quiet space to retreat and feel whole.
It’s time, friend… time to let go of these stressors you’ve clung to and give them to Jesus. Release it and find rest in Him – He will carry you through this season and the others to come.
Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.” Matthew 11:28-30 (NLT)
It’s in the middle of the ugly stages of life, and even this garden project, that I find myself growing closer with God. He doesn’t turn away from the mess, but longs to take it from us and make it into something new and beautiful for our good.
And knowing that we have a God that can take any mess I make in life and turn it into something good? That brings me peace and joy. That makes me want to lean into His grace and be renewed.
Sprinkle some joy in the comments! 🎨