How does my garden grow?

Dear Dad,

It was good to hear from you, and thanks for your interest. In response I would say that I have many plants that have grown together and compete for glory, beauty, and presence. Sometimes I think they need thinning, but they enjoy each other’s company.

I have shrubs and bushes that get a bit hairy and overgrown every year and need to be trimmed to be presentable. My roses are stunningly beautiful, but their care comes at such a cost. One never gets used to the pain of scratched, bloody fingers.

We had crocuses, daffodils, and tulips adorning the whole yard in early spring. They bring hope to everyone because they’re the first to respond to winter’s death, defying the elements, proclaiming the resurrection!

My front wall has a southern exposure so I planted various types of heat-resistant rockcress and ornamental grasses that thrive without a lot of tender loving care. That’s not the case with the annual bedding plants and tiny emerging foliage from seeds I’ve planted, though. These young ones are so vulnerable to being destroyed.

I have a huge patch of crocosmia that began as a cluster I could hold in one hand. It and the Siberian Frost iris have proved themselves worthy of multiplication without encouragement.

The tree and rose peonies are grand and magnificent: they really steal the show but before you turn your head they’re finished and their petals are scattered on the ground. In contrast, my English ivy on the chimney is beautiful but dangerous. I have a hard time keeping it under control.

Besides the roses I have a lot of aromatic plants: lavender, mints, lemon balm, honeysuckle, heliotrope. They’re not the best looking but they keep the air pure and sweet with scent. I only have a few vegetables but plenty of herbs; they’re nothing to look at but life would be sorry without them. As it would without my black and red currants and rhubarb, my favourite. All pies pale in comparison to rhubarb pie. (And some people call it a weed!)

The clematis, wisteria, and honeysuckle defy direction and guidance. Sometimes you just have to be happy they’re around. And then there’s my young fig! Now that it’s bearing fruit it’s ready to claim its noble place in human history.

Besides all these, there’s the lawn that needs cutting and the beds that need weeding – well, actually I love working on those too. It’s a joy to co-create: order out of chaos, meaning from randomness. And yet there’s great humility required when standing in the shadows of my giant Douglas firs whose roots grow deep and whose boughs line the heavens.

Those who pass by take joy, and they often stop and comment about what pleases their eyes. It’s easy to visit over gardening.

Thanks Dad, for inquiring about my ministry. Next letter, I’ll let you know how the yard is doing back home.

For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us.—Romans 12:4–6a

Ken Peters is pastor at Killarney Park MB Church, Vancouver. He presented this report at the congregation’s annual general meeting last June.