Heavenly Plant Matters

A garden is always a work in progress. And progress waits for no one.

There’s the weeding. The planting. The watering. The growing. The weeding. The thinning out. The pest control. The transplanting. The weeding. The soil amendment. The sprouting. The propagation. The weeding. Oh. Did I mention the weeding? LOL. But this post is NOT about weeding!

From the moment of conception in the mind of the gardener, the garden grows, blossoms, and births projects. All this before the first spade ever touches the ground! 

If you are a gardener, this is not news to you! What sparked this dialogue in my head was that my lemon balm grew out of control this year and was ready to harvest very early! What a pleasant surprise! 

Let’s go back . . .

When we moved here in 2022, I bought a lemon balm (because I love these, and they are quite prolific), and placed it in a pot – to keep it from taking over the garden.

I am sad to say, I was underwhelmed with its performance. Hoping for a better harvest, I placed it in what should have been a better setting. I selected a wide-mouthed container to keep it under control, cut out the bottom so the roots could breathe, and expectantly hoped for an amazing harvest. It was just like this peppermint (below), and set inside a larger, round, raised bed.

The harvest of lemon balm was nice, and I was SO excited!

But still, this was not the lemon balm I grew up with. It constantly wilted in the afternoon sun, and once the first harvest was done, we did not realize another harvest that summer. I decided the lemon balm would have to move again, come spring 2024.

Enter 2024

I actually hadn’t moved the lemon balm yet, it rained all spring this year!

The lemon balm loved it! During the spring, anyway. We just had our largest harvest – in mid-May!

But, progress. It waits for no one. In a few weeks, this location will be too hot for the lemon balm. The Texas summer sun will cause it to fight for its life for the next three to four months, and that will keep it from producing another harvest.

Sadly, I had to move it.

1. When I pulled the lemon balm out, I was surprised at how deep and thick the roots were! Plus I found a new shoot that burrowed its way under the container constraint and had started a new sprout in the main section of the raised bed. That was a progression I had not expected. 
2. I moved it into a deep pot that I grabbed last summer from a neighbor who moved. I didn’t know it then, but the pot is perfect for this plant.
3. Because the rest of the plants in this bed were in such close proximity, their roots were exposed when I pulled out the lemon balm, making them vulnerable to the 90°+ sunny weather over the next few days. I did not foresee this and had to take same-day action to provide protection. A trip to Home Depot on a legacy birthday, and thankful that we were able to do it. Progress waits for no one.

⭐ So, I thought about all the ways there is progress in the garden. 

⭐ I thought about the ways that this compares to progress in a human life. 

⭐ I also pondered the reality of a legacy birthday, and all the progress that had to be made to get here (any birthday in this age range is “legacy,” to me. Does not equal “milestone”).

And so . . .

We are fearfully and wonderfully made and a human life, not unlike a garden, is always in progress or in some sort of transition. 

Some progress is beautiful: 

• Planting of seeds // providing encouragement for dreams to grow. Blossoms in spring // prime of life. 
• Seed germination // gestation in the womb.
• Growth spurts // growth spurts! Both plants and humans are tired and need a rest after one of these! 
• Harvest // dreams realized!
• Mature, healthy plants // Satisfaction in one’s identity, comfortable in your own skin. 🤗

Some progress is ugly, feels in reverse, or is downright painful: 

• Bad or impotent seeds // discouragement, stunting, and canceling of dreams.
• Blossoms fade // a season of life is ending.
• Winter dormancy // a cyclical season of rest // preparation for the next round in our journey!
• Yard waste // death. But provides nourishment for the next life on so many levels.
• Seeds fall into the earth and new life begins // we stand on the shoulders of those who have gone before to go beyond what even they imagined.  

And hybrids? They remind me of cross-cultural or interdepartmental collaboration, or, fusion in music or food. The result is a brand new cultivar, breed, flavor, or idea that would never have been realized if we didn’t reach across the room and shake hands with those who have different traits and characteristics from our own. Hybrid ≠ GMO, for inquiring minds who wanna know.

When I cut down the lemon balm for harvest and then removed the whole thing from its place in the garden: 

• The remaining stalk stubs were ugly. But it was a part of the progress toward drying the cut leaves for soothing tea and light lemon flavoring later. 
• The gaping hole was ugly but exposed the need for support of the exposure and vulnerability at the loss of a neighbor. 
• I was reminded to rejoice and share in the beauty while it is here! 

What we do, positive or negative, profoundly impacts each of us in ways we could not foresee. Community (read “relationship”) is always in progress and always in a phase of transition. We come and we go, we try a new angle in order to thrive, we are cut and we are exposed, we are supported and we are loved. And sometimes we have done all we can do, and we need to let it be and let it heal. It will heal in its own time, and the resulting harvest will be more than you could have imagined. Because progress can be slow, or progress can be quick. But we must be expectantly patient because progress will surprise us over and over again when we least expect it!

And progress waits for no one.