Planting seeds

I went to Lowe’s after work yesterday to buy flower seeds and potting soil because I needed to plant flowers today. Partly because I’m stubborn and don’t like to ask for help, and partly because I needed to do it by myself, I hauled the heavy bags of soil off the ground, and into the cart, and then into my car, all on my own. I opened the seeds last night to let them soak in preparation for today’s planting. 

When I was young, my dad always planted a vegetable garden on Good Friday. Most years I would help him and it kind of become our thing. My dad worked two jobs so there wasn’t much time spent with him while I was growing up, so this was a special and unique time. 

After Mike and I started dating, I again began the tradition most years of planting a vegetable garden on Good Friday. It was always a day I thought of my dad and the simple yet special time that we used to spend together. 

Last year, the week of Holy Week was a time I was in the process of deep personal and spiritual deconstruction, and deep personal work. It was a time where I was doing the hard work of finally saying goodbye to my dad in ways I never had. Planting vegetables didn’t feel right. But I needed the experience and the hope of seeing God bring something from dust. 

So I spent part of Good Friday planting flowers. And I spent the next few months watching those flowers grow and bloom from tiny seeds. And as they sprouted and grew, I began to heal. Slowly, like the flowers. 

As Good Friday approached this year, I planned again to plant flowers. Because I am still in a season of healing and growth. And have realized that’s a lifelong journey. 

So on this day of remembering the sacrificial death of my Jesus, and his burial, and the waiting for new life, I commemorate that in ways maybe a little untraditional. But meaningful to me all the same. 

Because God brings beautiful things out of dust. And sometimes flowers bloom.