monk business, that's all

The sun came just before noon after several gloomy, grey days. Beckoned out of the house, two amateur gardeners began to clean up weeds, leaves, and the muck build-up in the soon-to-be herb garden. The rake, the ho, the shovel were the tools of the day. The ground a partner, not an adversary. A slight sweat amidst the midday labor. A solidarity with monks of old that centered around the freedom of working in prayerful harmony with God’s creation. Thoughts began to clear like the dark, wet ground underfoot. Doubts, insecurity, anxiety became soaked up by a clarity of purpose. Unable to fully put into words what my time here was for, besides personal maturation, I struck an unanticipated iceberg of purpose: a planting requires preparation.

Oak Grove exists, on a basic level, to facilitate growth, to enrich, to inspire, to deepen roots, thicken trunks and lengthen branches. But before any of this can happen, the soil must be ready. Scattering seed upon ill-prepped land leaves seeds worthless and turns work into futility. Not a system or rule, growth is a process that takes time and energy and patience. Like any good planting of the Lord, preparation is required. The planting season begins in the fall. God-willing, he’ll continue to bless me by using me be a blessing. I’m preparing for a planting.