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 Bobbing in the breeze, miniature pansies begged, like baby robins. When I didn’t water them, their faces became question marks—two dozen questions without answers. When I walked down the path, I thought of the answer Jesus may have given: “Or take the lilies; they do not spin, they do not weave; but I tell you,…

The flower garden’s dainty carpeting of Sweet Woodruff had wandered a few inches to introduce itself to the grass. Hostas were performing acrobatic acts upon their slender stalks. The auricular seemed to form their own garden club with the Snow Lady calling the meeting to order. The poppy mallows reveled in the sun. Pink turtlehead…

As a liturgist/musician I participate in nearly every act of worship in the parish. This should make me holy, don’t you think? But it doesn’t seem to be working that way. The liturgy can easily wash over me without my participating in the reality. Ron Rolheiser writes: “We participate in Jesus’ sacrifice when we, like…

I’ve walked through gardens where the owners named every plant, and I’ve walked through woods with persons who could name the wildflowers and identify the trees. I’ve read books on flowers classified with phylum, genus, and species. The naming indicates an ownership that escapes those who can only point to plants and say, “I wonder…

Tiny purple spears stood erect, their heads strained in one direction, as if intently listening. The Mother of Thyme had called a convocation.  The sight reminded me of the Church, an assembly called into being on the cross and the primary place where we meet Christ. It is in the assembly that we know who…

Having just finished flowering, the forsythia heard flattering remarks. A child said, “Mommy, look at the little yellow bells.” The botanist said, “This is a decorative genus of the olive family.” Passers-by remarked, “Look at the forsythia, a sure sign that spring is here!”  But then the forsythia heard ominous words: “It’s time to prune.”…

Overturning a rock reveals crawling grubs and squirming worms. Extremely important ecologically, these creatures enrich the soil and increase its porosity. They are part of a system in which sun, atmosphere, mineral fragments, chemical compounds, and living organisms interact. Unless we occasionally overturn a rock, we forget the life teeming below the surface. Overturning the…

Those who garden have a gift of accepting things as they are. They know certain plants cannot be planted beside others. They accept the need for acidic or alkaline soils. They know there’s “a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant” (Eccles. 3:2). Accepting the ways of nature gives practice in accepting…

The green wheat fields give promise. Crocuses force their way through the topsoil. Tree buds approach the moment of explosion. Can you hear the groan of spring’s birthing? God has a plan: the mystery that began to be revealed in creation, reached its fullness in Christ, and strains toward eschatological fulfillment. The author of Colossians…

Give a weed an inch, and it will take a “yard.” Consequently, weeding is vital, but not easy, for at times it’s difficult to distinguish between the desired plant and the weed. Pull both up, and the distinction, however, becomes obvious in their roots. (To paraphrase Scripture, by their roots you shall know them.)  Weeds…