planting seeds
spirea
two weeks ago, back when the world was new, the act of fetching the bird from school came with the added boost of accolades from his teachers about his “near perfect behavior.” in fact, i owe the bird a lot of credit for my easy transition into campus ministry in january. he surprised me with his instant comfort with school rituals, peers, and even group nap time.
that was before he grabbed a handful of the face of another child who was “using his outside voice inside.” there were no accolades that day, of course. just instructions to cut the bird’s fingernails and to insist upon good behavior at home.
red yucca
we’ve de-clawed our child, who now spends 87.5 percent of his life in time out for clocking his brother on the head with various objects. with every school pick-up, i hope for a report of improved behavior. but the bird is consistent in his resolve to fully embrace the “terrible twos.” it seems that in parenting, there are no immediate results.
purple heart
there are no immediate results in campus ministry either, as it turns out. i am wrapping up my first semester at the university of memphis, and my offerings of engaging programs and free food are not exactly wooing the masses. i was reporting this phenomenon to a member of my campus ministry board last week, and he encouraged me to think of my work as the act of planting seeds.
i burst into immediate laughter as i recalled what a friend had said to me just the day before. she was surveying my front yard, a space that was completely under construction two years ago due to a drainage issue. i, a novice gardener, researched what plants would be happiest in our wet soil and in full sun. i made dozens of trips to nurseries and googled the names of the foliage on the shelves. and then, much to the entertainment of friends, family, and neighbors, i made what several of them described as the beginning gardener’s classic mistake. i planted one of everything. (i really planted about three of everything but this fact didn’t seem to matter.)
yellow helenium daisies
as my friend was surveying my yard, which is now full of all sorts of interesting leaves and textures and colors, she said, “your yard looks great! it’s almost as if you knew what you were doing!”
i guess the same goes for all types of seed planting – parenting, campus ministry, et cetera. there are no immediate results. in the present, we just have to persist with near-knowledge and experimental expertise. then, if the sun shines just right, something beautiful will emerge.
Tags: campus ministry, daisy, gardener, helenium, novice, planting seeds, purple heart, terrible twos, time-out, university of memphis, yucca
May 8th, 2011 at 11:50 am
ha! the sarcasm is missing, but it is an accurate quote. you’re yard looks great.
May 9th, 2011 at 3:09 pm
Amen to that, on the parenting and gardening fronts. I was just looking at some pictures of our nascent garden taken our first year in the house. A lot of our time was spent taking out things we didn’t want – a butterfly bush right next to the house, a weed tree that grew up near where we parked, etc. That first year’s garden was so tiny! We started with these wee starter plants – one pot of black-eyed susans, some lambs ear, sedum, some phlox and 2-3 iris bulbs. Now all of those have just gone gangbusters, and we’ve expanded the garden area to 3 times its original size. The analogies to parenting are mind-boggling.
We’re planting seeds for the first time this year and I just LOVE it.