Reformation

This year I am not giving in. No matter that this spring has been so warm that everyone else already had their gardens completely outfitted by March, whereas mine has large, empty spaces begging to be filled in with beautiful blooms. Everyone else can be enticed by the begging. Not me.

Because I did that once.

One spring we went from February to July, skipping all the gradual warmth of spring. I, wooed by such warm weather and enticed by all the gorgeous plants at the nursery -- and spurred by the fact that my garden was completely bare at the time -- planted my flowers in April. In Michigan we did not even THINK of planting until the end of August, once we were sure the snow was really gone. Even then, to be prudent, we planted only hardy things, like evergreen trees.

The minute I planted everything that year, we skipped from July to December, and there were dire warnings of frost. I frantically collected every plastic tub, tarp, shoe box, cereal box, etc., I owned to cover my defenseless plants. Like the woman of Elisha's time who borrowed her neighbor's jugs to hold her abundance of oil, I was prepared, if the Lord had given the word, to beg for more tubs from my neighbors.

And of course I prayed. Please, Lord, don't let these poor plants (and my wallet) suffer for my foolishness. Please, take me, not them...well, not really.

Luckily the Lord took pity on me. He spared the plants, and I am a reformed gardener now. Though it takes everything in me, I will not yield to the primal urge to plant things before it is time.

Yesterday, the weather forecaster said there was a chance for frost this weekend. I wanted to hug him.

Maybe, if he is right, someone will come knocking at my door, asking for tubs and shoe boxes. Of course I will lend them graciously, along with a tract warning about the foolishness of impulsive actions, and urging people to have more patience.

OK, so last night I broke down and bought a hanging plant. But at least it can easily be brought inside.