Friday morning was cloudy and even a bit drizzly. On top of the usual weakness and post-chemo side effects, I found myself lonely and a bit down, and decided that getting out of the house and working in the garden, even if for just a little while, was what I needed.
Thank God for gardens!
That very same afternoon, Hannah and I watched a documentary about the incarceration of the Japanese Americans during World War II in southeastern Colorado, and how gardening helped the Japanese cope. Of course, none of those stark barracks behind barbed wire exist today. The event is something the nation ought to be ashamed of, but that doesn't change that it happened.
Thankfully, the Japanese Americans were not treated anywhere near as badly as prisoners of war in other countries. They were allowed to live together as families, have gardens outside their barracks, and after a while, even go outside the barbed wire fence to shop in the local town of Granada.
I was riveted by the fact that gardens helped the people get through those awful times of relocation and confinement behind fences. The Japanese people were excellent farmers and were expected to farm the 10,000 acres of land around the barracks. They did a superb job, growing enormous vegetables and amazing crops even in the very dry, wilderness-type land and climate of southeastern Colorado.
They grew, as my family and siblings are doing, not only vegetables, but flowers (the ones pictures above are ones my sister Joella gathered into vases to sell in Missouri). Gardens brought some semblance of beauty from the ashes of the lives of the Japanese Americans.
For myself, I found that working in the garden and watching the plants sprout and grow gave me a sense of hope in the middle of a hard journey. No wonder our Lord Himself chose to stay, pray, and face the cross--and His ultimate resurrection--in a garden.
Thank You, Lord, for gardens and for the hope they represent.
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