It is no wonder to me that the first records of God’s interactions with conscious mankind were in the garden. While the garden is a place of production and provision, it is also a place of labor and change.  I’ve always imagined the biblical Garden of Eden as a place of pure beauty and luxury, and I can maintain that mental image; however, as a gardener, I understand the complexities of the garden. I understand the trials, anxiety, and obstacles of the garden as well as the faith, persistence, and abundance it brings.

I started my first garden (LOL, it was a 4×4 plot) when I first started chemotherapy treatment for stage 2, HER2-positive, invasive ductal carcinoma – breast cancer. I understood that the chemotherapy was killing off things inside of me, both good and bad.  I lost all of my hair, my nails, and taste, and what I could do was severely limited. One day, I was sitting on my patio, adoring my favorite tree, and I heard what would seem to many as a ridiculous idea in my situation.

“Plant a garden.”

Huh?

“Plant a garden.”

Then, there was that awkward silence.  You know the silence of knowing you are supposed to answer, but instead you have some sort of weird look on your face that clearly shows you are on the struggle bus and can’t get your mind and mouth to cooperate. Eventually, I got it together, and I planted a garden.  Although it was small [you’ll have to comment or email me to hear some of the jokes my family made about my garden], it was hard work considering my circumstances.  But, I enjoyed it.  It was a place of peace.  When gardening, I had to focus my attention on the garden. I couldn’t think about all of the “what ifs” that cancer brings.  I had to be sure to remove the bad stuff and nourish the good.  I had to make sure that I didn’t let things into my garden that would kill off all that I was trying to produce.  To do that, I had to quickly learn what should and what should not be there.  It wasn’t always evident; sometimes, I had to look a bit more closely and do some research.  Sometimes, the ugly things were what was needed, and the pretty things were toxic.  In some cases, I had to rely on the experience and advice of those who gardened before me.

There were days when I struggled to get out of my bed, but I made a way to my garden.  Why?  Because when it seems that things are dying all around you; when it seems that nothing is coming of your goals, dreams, and visions, you must bring things to life.  You have the power.  Get up!  Speak life!  Bring forth!

Let me tell you, my garden was small.  I had to buy soil because where I was wasn’t good for planting.  I had to buy tools because initially, I was not equipped. My circumstances were not ideal.  Some may have seen my garden as a hopeless situation. But, I tell you what, I eventually ate from my garden.