At times when grief seems overwhelming, or when personal sorrows weigh down the spirit, people often find balm in nature. It seems to speak in a way that is healing to our souls. In a garden, where one is most intimately acquainted with nature, we often see it as a workplace, a place that invites us to active experimentation, investigative curiosity, and diligent labor. But when our hearts are most grieved we want none of that…. and it is then that we discover the garden as a place of solace, a place that waits for us.
In those times we are no longer laying plans or putting ourselves into our gardens, but simply receive the quiet lessons, comforting friendship of the earth we till. For many, a garden is where God speaks to us, still.
It has lessons and insights of the cycle of life, of the ebb and flow of the seasons, and of those things greater than ourselves. That gives comfort and peace, to know that there has been a continuum and that nothing ever really passes completely from existence, but often changes form. It tells us of our mortality, but also of our eternal hope. It tells us that life and love are stronger, in finality, than death. It reminds us that there are good things, so many good things, all around us.
Our lives are better for our gardens, and our gardens speak things to the world for us in ways without words. Sometimes those ways touch the deepest part of the human soul.