Bigger Picture Moment: The Garden

I'm on the fence about planting a garden this year.  Well, not the planting part -- that's what I love. The dark, damp earth, tilled into tenderness; seeds poked and sprinkled; nametags planted at heads of (mismatched) rows.  I love the anticipation of gardening, and the excitement over those first, timid shoots rising above the dirt. 

And it sounds to me like I just described -- in plant metaphor -- why I'm thrilled and a little nervous to be pregnant.  The expectation and growth; first, fluttery movements tickling me from within; months of planning and dreaming; love at first sight and nurturing first days.  But because I've done this before, I know what it's all about, both joys and stresses.  I know strain and exhaustion will be added when we bring home another child, and I know how I'll be filled with doubt over my ability to do this right. 

I'll be picking at undesirable weeds and watching for gnawing insects.  I'll be hunched over in the heat of the summer, working, while the world seems to be playing.  Yes, I'll admire the beauty of what we've grown, and I'll love it through hailstorms or drought, hoping to bring forth fruit despite my inadequate gardening skills.  But will it be enough?

It will, because it has to be. 

As for my back yard, part of me is ready to swap my vegetable garden plan with all its pressure and worry, and plant a tangle of flowers instead.  Something that will be lovely and imperfect and under no insistence to produce anything other than a bit of color and life.  Perhaps a honeybee garden: weedy at first glance, but abundant with sweets and the hum of promise; perennials, so I don't have to fret over a new plan each spring. 

And -- again -- it sounds to me like I just described why this baby, no matter how uncertain I've felt about jumping into the babyhood fatigue once again, will be perfect for our family.  Because we knew that our family wasn't complete yet, and this time...this time...

maybe we'll simply let the baby be a beautiful, buzzing, tangle of life.  Maybe we'll let it grow without stressing about what fruit it bears or how easily it sleeps through the night.  Maybe we won't succumb to anxiety and doubt this time around.

Maybe we'll simply appreciate the gift of the flower, and savor its unquestionable placement in our garden.

We're seeing the Bigger Picture through simple moments -- moments that force us to stop and take notice of the ways our worlds are important, meaningful, and beautiful. Please join us at Melissa's place today! Take a minute to focus on what's real in your life -- what's important -- and record it. Share it, visit the other participants, and let us be a part of your Bigger Picture!