Deepening Roots

I’ve had this prayer poem from Julian of Norwich in the back of my mind this week:

Be a gardener.

Dig a ditch

Toil and sweat,

And turn the earth upside down

And seek the deepness

And water the plants in time.

Continue this labor

And make sweet floods to run

And noble and abundant fruits

To spring.

Take this food and drink

And carry it to God

As your true worship.

 

            - Julian of Norwich

 It came to mind when I looked out of our front window early in the week and noticed the zinnias blooming in our window box. And I remembered that they came from the packets of seeds we distributed and received just before Easter as a sign of new life. Jay planted them and they grew into seedlings on the trunk in our living room (with a brief trip to the house of some friends while we were out of town for a week), and eventually we planted them in the flower box by our living room window. And after all of these months and those transitions, they’re blooming, a sign of hope and new life.

I read somewhere recently (I suspect it was on Facebook, though I couldn’t track it down) a quote about how planting seedlings commits you to staying in a place for a while. The process of growing from seed to seedling to flowering zinnia or juicy tomatoes takes time and care and attention.

I’ve been thinking about that and about the Easter seeds and about Jesus’ words in John 12, about a kernel of wheat falling to the ground and dying and producing many seeds. About how he was speaking about his death and resurrection. New life beginning in the dark, growing from the ground, coming out of the tomb. And how in his death and resurrection and especially in the gift of the Spirit, Jesus was planting seedlings and committing to staying with us and bringing new life to full flower, to full fruit.

Two lines from the poem stand out to me as I sit with it today: ‘. . . turn the earth upside down and seek the deepness.’ There’s been a lot of upheaval in our world and in our lives and in the unsettledness it’s helpful to remember that Jesus, our gardener, can plant something new. And I appreciate the invitation to ‘seek the deepness.’ My spiritual director reminded me a few weeks ago that summer is a time in the natural world for deepening roots as well as blossoming and blooming and bearing fruit and encouraged me to deepen my roots this summer. I’m still pondering what that means, and trusting that as I seek to be faithful and attentive in prayer and life, the Spirit is deepening my roots, growing the seeds of Christ in me.