Tending Soil.

I got home today, my heart dried and burdened, heavy. Like wilted leaves and droppy flowers browned with heat, saddened by the stories of students, the hurt in their faces. Weary of running, rushing, busy like a tornado at school, feeding joy into students and charisma in smiles and words, but finding myself emptying to them too. A heart tired and weak, limp with energy, loose with emotion, leaking tears. Pursuing calling, purposefully used, prospering in the lives of those who need, but faltering in strength under its weight.

I trudged up the steps to my home, my heart a mirrored reflection of the flowers at my sill.

Filled with prayer - a longing for wisdom, desire for balance. My heart, a cry to be steadfast. My thoughts filled with my day: the tasks, the faces, the papers. My soul, yearning for home. Wishing to wipe away my complaining, to erase the traces of embittered fear. To rest, to be.

I lay the leathered bag at the door, and slip my feet into soft sandals, orange dress still snug at the waist and trailing behind in fullness of flow. I pad down the crusty soil to reach for the hose spout, stretch for the wooden handles of trowel and spade. Darkened, rich black soil fills my work, my handles gloved and smeared with earth. My dress a sash around the greenery of leaves dancing upward in the water trendles.

I feel this deep in my heart, the enriched soil wishing to be tended, the Masters hand at work within to grow roots, dried and exposed. I know His touch, his kneading, I make the choice to respond to His patience. To evaluate the soil levels of my soul. I hear my own voice, knowing it, telling me to rest. To be home. To linger over red wine, to write, to fill the tub of lavender and soak. To encapsule time to love well: to mail letters, to respond to words, to mold friendships. To plan spaces for prayer: for wisdom and discernment, for prodding my soul, for love over my friends.

I find myself, my soul, in the garden. My heart, like hydrangeas in tended soil, once broken and cracked, gaining strength and life from the rich dirt of heaven, of home.