As a child, I was not one for digging in the dirt and planting flowers. Even now, the concept of somewhat foreign. I never am sure how deep to dig a hole or how much dirt to put in a pot. But I am learning.
Creating is therapeutic. Not just creating words but also creating gardens. Sticking my hands in the dirt and smelling of wet ground invades my soul now. I enjoy the pain in the backs of my legs and the sweat dripping down my face.
It's not much but it is a start. It is a way to take pride in the house we live - a house we both love and dislike. It is a way to busy myself and create. And it reminds me of how blessed I am to live where I do and to know that the same God who created the flowers also created me. The same God who brings the rain and the sunshine to give life to the ground brings what I need to give life to me.
(title from "beautiful things" by gungor)