We Had Hoped

A lot happens in gardens this time of year. Even back in my native Minnesota the persistent snows of winter, which often cover the ground well into April, begin to melt away … and life giving refreshment begins to trickle down into the waiting earth below. Seeds, receiving the long anticipated moisture, swell as if pregnant and ready to give birth. Here is the Pacific Northwest the harvest of spring’s first fruits has already begun. Tender shoots of asparagus can be had at Spud’s market for the remarkable price of $1.99 per pound … already trimmed and ready to be steamed. Tulips, daffodils and hyacinth fill the air with fragrance and paint a welcome splash of color across the landscape … even if the skies have remained unusually gray this year. Gardeners put on their wellies or their crocks, pick up their tools and begin to trowel around in the musty earth. Yes, a lot happens in gardens this time of year … all across the land.
Perhaps that’s why it seems so fitting and so familiar that our Easter Gospel from the Book of John takes place in a garden. Perhaps that’s why we’re not entirely surprised and maybe even a little amused that Mary mistakes the Risen Christ for a gardener. Gardeners are, after all, the keepers and the tenders and the midwife’s of the mystery of seeds and shoots and new life…

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