Category Archives: Spirituality

The Reluctant Gardener


They call them “volunteer plants”. Perfectly good seeds that sprout in random places without the help of a deliberate seed sower. For the life of me I can’t imagine why a perfectly good tomato seed would “volunteer” to grace the rocky slope in my back yard. But there it was, thriving midst the weeds when my grandson found it!

Much too great a treasure to be tossed, he rescued it from the weed heap, roots intact, presenting it to be potted! With every single ounce of green in me (single ounce pretty much describes it!) we managed to find an empty paint pail, some unused potting soil where I had buried other plants alive, and a tomato cage to support what would, or at least should, become a bushel of plump rosy fruit!

The first few days were touch and go, the poor plant’s limbs drooping over its wire cage. I’m sure by now it realized the dreadful mistake it had made choosing my yard. I think I even heard its faint screams…”help meeee”…pleading, as only a failing tomato can, for someone to rescue it! I watered it, moved it into the sun, then to the shade, feeling a bit like a new parent. What to do? Too wet, too dry? I didn’t expect it to survive, but I was determined, mostly for my grandson’s sake, who would be back in a few weeks to tend the lawn again, no doubt eager to examine the budding life left in my charge.

I don’t know quite how to explain it. A miracle maybe? Just two weeks later, that limp little tomato plant has beaten the odds and even has three plump green globes…real tomatoes…to show for it! Not that I can take any true credit for this amazing turn of events. I am, after all, a notorious serial plant killer! But a bit of natural intervention, the rain…the overcast skies…the stifling humidity of the past few weeks were perhaps not sent to torment me, but to save that little plant from doom and to teach me something about myself.

The lesson? Before owning…believing the negative labels I tend to give myself based on the past, I should take my cues from Nature who presents us with mornings every…single…day…that are new and full of potential, where anything is possible…even tomatoes from a reluctant gardener like me…

…and I’m thinking out loud here…I just might want to plant a few tomato plants of my own when next season comes around! 😊

~ kat…”budding grasshopper gardener in training” (formerly known as “notorious serial plant killer”) ~ Summer 2015


Fear for Heaven’s Sake

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You say heaven as
if it is the be all end
all of existence. As
if to be denied entry
is the most dreaded of
all things to dread.

Some do live this
life paying dues for
eternal entry into
sprawling mansions…
their names etched in
gold at the gate. While
some live life on
heaven’s fire, wildly
loving, rejecting egoistic
edicts scribbled in
ancient tomes by
fearful men.

Eternity, after all, is
neither here nor
there, but once
upon and now and
then, a candle burning
at two wicks to
be consumed when
end meets end.

kat ~ july 9, 2015


On Hoarding Grace

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The sun does shine
on all, the greatest to the
small. The breeze…it
tousles flowing tresses, blades
of grass, majestic trees.
The tides shift sand as well
as stone, and earthen beds
of fecund soil embrace
the seeds of weeds
amidst more cultivated
blooms. Stars shimmering in
the firmament, grant wishes for
a dream. The moon reflects
both light and dark, her crescent
ticking new to full to new
and back again.

With nature’s unconditional
example, then who am I but
egoistic flesh, all grace to hoard.
I am a clay-thrown vessel
meant to empty, not fill
to brim, with stagnant stench
lamenting, “more…need more.”

kat ~ June 29, 2015


A note to my conservative evangelical Christian friends…and why I believe there were no losers this historic week…

  
I was once you. I believed there was only one way to the one true God and that that God was my God. I believed being saved meant that it was up to me to save the world, while separating myself from it. We learned to prey on the weak, the sick, the homeless, the lost as we called them, and to recognize those who were “ripe” to receive. My evangelism 101 class, a mandatory requisite for all new Christians at my evangelical church, taught me how to talk the talk, but not so much how to walk the talk. There were hints of it, but the most important thing was getting others…sinners…to pray the salvation prayer. Each name to be secretly added to my personal roster of “souls saved for Christ”. But I wasn’t truly saved back then. There was no grace in this lifestyle.

There was a saying we always used that allowed us to justify our mission. Love the sinner but hate the sin. The truth? As long as I was intent on changing those I perceived as sinners, it was impossible to really love them. I know that now. 

My true salvation came later in life when God finally brought me to my knees and forced me to admit that I was gay. It was a true road of Damascus type of conversion…my second salvation. I prayed until I could pray no more begging God to change me. My prayers only returned answered by confirmations of the dreadful truth that I had tried so hard to bury. It wasn’t until I became one of those unlovable others who refused to see the light, who refused to change, who were impossible to love, that I realized what grace truly was. Only then did I realize how big God is and that my vain attempts to change the world were not my job. God didn’t need my help, thank you very much. God just called me to love the most unlovable soul I knew…myself…and then eventually to love others just as God loves me.

And so believe me when I say I understand how hard this week in our history must be for you. I do. If not for God’s grace in my own life I’d be right there with you, lamenting what seems like a tragic loss for a society that feels like it is spinning out of control. Except for grace…

With Grace there are no losers, but I do believe there are great opportunities. As I look back on this week I am amazed at how Love permeated each event, calling us all to receive that Grace so freely given, along with a hefty dose of a peace that defies our understanding. 

“Love is kind, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs…” If anyone had reason to be angry. To count and recount centuries of abuse, unfairness and injustice it would be our brothers and sisters in Charleston, SC. But when given the opportunity to act, through tears of brokenness they looked hate directly in the eyes and forgave. That single act opened the floodgates of grace and allowed us to see the sickness of hate and racism that still pervades our nation. It led to another opportunity…a call to remove the emblems of hate from our public squares. “Love…does not boast, it is not proud. Love does not rejoice in evil but rejoices in truth.” It has been a hard thing for some to do. To let go of emblems considered heritage, honoring those who fought and died for a long lost cause. But for Grace and through Love for others we are truly presented with an opportunity to remove one of the conspicuous walls that divides so many of us. 

Later in the week many of us were stunned by the swift judgements passed from our highest court favorably addressing the appeals of those seeking shelter, the sick, and the outcast. That’s not how the media reported it. Talking heads with political agendas called it Fair Housing, the Affordable Care Act (aka Obamacare) and Gay Marriage. But Love once again offered us an opportunity. A chance to walk the talk by realizing that we are our brother’s keeper. A chance to Love with a capital L. “Love is patient, it does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it always protects, always trusts, always hopes…”

When Love wins, as it has in so many ways this week, there are no losers because “Love never Fails.” 

And I hope you won’t mind it if I tell you I love you. To be honest I pretty much love everybody right now! What a week! But also know that I’m here for you if you ever need me. 


in times

in times like these, when good
and evil clash, when fingers
point and bleating sycophants cry
foul to sway their witless
devotees…I find it wise to bite
my tongue from adding
to the mad cacophony…

to pause

selah

…and squint through swelling
tears on bended knees, perchance
to glimpse one single bloom
amidst the weeds.

kat ~ 21june15