PLANTING A GARDEN IS AN ACT OF FAITH, AS IS . . .
"It was such a pleasure to sink one's hands into the warm earth, to feel at one's fingertips the possibilities of the new season."
I planted my fall garden this weekend.
As I tucked the fragile young transplants and the minuscule seeds inside the dark soil it occurred to me that planting a garden is an act of faith. We gardeners believe that the miracle of germination and growth and photosynthesis will happen yet again, that with a little water and sunlight and dirt, and a measure of tender care, these tiny seeds and seedlings will produce delicious food and beautiful flowers.
So, believing in things not seen, we move forward. Having faith means we see the unseen; then we believe; then we act. Our loving labor turns our vision into reality.
Thinking more broadly, I realized that many other endeavors are acts of faith.
Planning for retirement.
Starting a business.
Taking a new job.
Moving to a new city.
Enrolling in law school.
Building a new house.
Beginning an exercise program.
Having a baby.
All of these first steps - and a thousand more I could name - involve stepping into the unknown, believing that our efforts will return sweet rewards. A successful life requires moving forward in faith.
Then, thinking about gardening in an even larger sense, my mind latched on to this passage by L. M. Montgomery from the Anne of Green Gables series:
"It always amazes me to look at the little wrinkled brown seeds and think of the rainbows in 'em," said Captain Jim. "When I ponder on them seeds I don't find it hard to believe that we've got souls that'll live in other worlds. You could hardly believe there was life in them tiny things, some no bigger than grains of dust, let alone colour and scent, if you hadn't seen the miracle, could you?"
Just as I have faith that planting and nourishing a garden will yield an abundant harvest, I also have faith "that we've got souls that'll live in other worlds," worlds grander and far more glorious than this one. That faith leads me to believe in a future I cannot see, and then to act on the principle that my purpose here in this life is to prepare for the eternities.
I'm a "little wrinkled brown seed," yet I know in my heart that "there [is] life in them tiny things" and there are "rainbows in" me and those around me. I'm destined to become something of eternal significance, as are you and all my other brothers and sisters here on Earth.