Faith, Hope, and a Whole Lotta Love

I do not have a green thumb. That's why we only have one plant in our entire house.  Herman.  He was a housewarming gift from a very dear friend, and he has to be the hardiest plant on the planet, because he's lasted through seven years of sporadic watering, only one repotting, and plenty of cat pawing and biting.  Poor Herman.

But in the spring, my thumbs take on a light green hue as I start dreaming of crisp lettuce salads with a sprinkling of fresh herbs.  It's herb garden planting time.

With a merry heart, I was off to Lowe's.  I was faced with potential flavors.  I caressed leaves, closed my eyes, and inhaled deeply.  So many choices, so little room on my deck!  I had my list of must-have herbs and tried to stay focused.

Once my cart was full of the required supplies, I could barely steer the cart.  I wondered how in the world I was going to heave those bags of Miracle Grow into my truck.  I know the bags look small in the picture, but they had to have weighed fifty pounds each.  I managed the first two on my own, and as I was catching my breath and staring at that third bag wondering if my glutes or back would give out first, a man jumped out of his car.  "Let me get that for you."


If he had asked, "Do you need help with that?" my pride would have answered for me.  Thankfully, he didn't wait for my response and muscled that last bag into the truck.

I wonder how it feels to be someone's hero of the day.

So after a morning of some serious lifting, scrubbing, digging, planting, sweeping, washing, and sweating, I have hope.








I have hope that this basil will grow to spice up Thai stirfrys.  That the pesto that I make will bring out the flavor of grilled swordfish on a hot summer night.  That everyone who eats a salad in my home this will get a flavorful surprise when they find that hidden basil leaf amongst the other greens.

I have hope that there will be homemade salsa with that happy zing of cilantro.  That there will be scooping and laughing, sharing meals and sharing stories.

I have hope that parsley will liven up an ordinary sandwich.  That a sprinkling will freshen up a pot of brown rice or quinoa.  That salads will sparkle and casseroles will giggle.

I have hope that there will be thyme-rubbed steaks and pizza with fresh oregano.  That sauces will simmer and marinades will do their magic.

I have hope that there will be cool refreshment.  That mint leaves will grace a scoop of vanilla ice cream with fresh raspberries.  That they will float between the ice cubes in a glass of iced tea.

But I also have faith.  Faith that God will use these feet to go where He would have me go.  Faith that he'll use these hands to make things for those He brings my way.  Faith that I will grow this summer in ways I might not have planned.  Faith that these little plants will have a greater purpose.

This summer I'll be pruning and picking, watering and training.
But growing an herb garden takes more than just work.

It takes hope.

It takes faith.

And it takes a whole lotta love.

But isn't that what life is all about?