The Blessing of the Sunflowers

They were tucked into the garden yesterday morning. Tiny shoots. 600 of them. I started them out a few weeks back in little paper cups with holes in the bottom. One after another, I filled each container with potting soil and poked the seeds under the surface. I watered and watched them take root and grow their first tender leaves. Then, I transplanted them into the plot to the side of the house. That’s where, according to their season, they’ll grow taller than me. 

Those evil, microscopic, late-spring insects that attack anything that exhales carbon dioxide made a meal out of me in the process. No sacred space on my body was spared and now I look like someone with a case of itchy chicken pox. Still, I’m satisfied to see my plants, so young and possessing so much potential, planted in neat rows. I rummaged around the garage for a water hose and oscillating sprinkler then set it up right in the center of the garden. To thrive, those babies will need vigilant nourishment at the start. Afterwards, I sprinkled pellets that smell like rotten eggs along the periphery, an olfactory fence to deter unwanted guests. 

The next part of the process is a conglomeration of working, waiting, hoping and praying recognizing that there are no guarantees. 
So much of life is like that…..

I sighed contentedly as I scanned my yard, the peonies all pink and white and red, the lilacs in fragrant bloom, the petite Siberian yellow and purple iris standing straight and tall bordering the driveway. I peered across my garden and prayed for my sunflowers because if God cares about sparrows and lilies and hairs on my head, He cares about sunflowers too.

God bless my sunflower garden.
Let it bring me joy as I tend to its care.
May the soil be balanced with just enough sand to invite the roots to spread deep and wide.
Give rain and sunshine in abundance to nourish my baby plants.
May the flowers growth outpace the weeds.

God bless the deer and lead them to virgin paths away from my garden.
God bless the rabbits and provide for them more desirable hors d’oeuvres than my plants.

As I steward my little plot of land, may I delight in the Creator and Sustainer of all that is beautiful.
Help me to wait patiently for my flowers to mature.
Let the good, good gift of blooms multiply exponentially into a field of plenty so I can share generously from the bounty.
Someone is going to need their happy sunshine about August.
And so am I.

God bless my sunflower garden.

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