Planting a garden on my porch will always be one of the best decisions of my 20s. It has led to such profound reawakening of joy, hope, and anticipation. God has shown me such love + treasure through the small garden I began a few years ago. As my porch garden expanded so did the whole of my heart and soul. Life escapes where we cannot imagine it ever will.
And, for now, this poem is the best I can do to describe it.
As the garden grows, so do I. It’s all so much better than I could have dreamed up on my own. Pain doesn’t get the final say. God does. He writes good stories. I’m still in the midst of mine, but here’s part of the journey,
We planted roses at the blue house last week. My nephews brought us quite the collection from their grandma’s home. How special to have a piece of someone else’s garden!
As I wait for fall, I soak up all the late, golden days I have left. I may be drinking pumpkin spice lattes and planning holiday parties, but I’m happily sitting in the in-between season of summer-fall.
We’ll call it. . .Summerfall. Continue reading “I Named It Hope”