"Peace, peace, be still" came to me today when everything about me seemed in crisis. Tense, worried, anxiously running to and fro, I was like a tumultuous sea. Surely when the surface water is disturbed, we cannot see what otherwise would be clearly visible in the sea's depths. "Peace, be still." I suddenly realized that as long as I was rushed and agitated, I could not see beyond the surface of my problems. As my emotions quieted, I realized that God also was present in the depths of my life, the course of everlasting love unhindered by my problems.
Ultimately, I think gardening speaks to a deep-seated desire to experience the real, the essential, the astonishingly possible. To garden is gradually to give up control, to fall literally to one's knees and come into closer and closer contact with the tremendous and often bewildering beauty of the world. Nothing, you find, is at all what you thought it was. Dirt is not dirt, but a teeming mass of microorganisms that turns death back into life.
