Grow Along Week 3
Remembering what we have in common with the soil
Hello from the Ozark Mountains!
I’m away from my little plants this week while my family is traveling for spring break. I’ve left my seedlings in capable hands that are watering them and keeping thecats from sniffing around too much. The cats did manage to get into my shoddy cover on my shelf and tip out the tray of chamomile. I was sad at first but remembered this is a good opportunity to practice trying again. So I will plant more chamomile when I get home. How are your plants coming along? What are you growing?
For our grow along this week I’m sharing a post from Diana Butler Bass’s Lenten series A Grounded Lent.
Bass is a theologian and author who writes and speaks on the intersection of faith and spirituality. I’d encourage you to check out her books and/or her Substack if you haven’t encountered her work yet. She provides a really helpful & informed perspective on faith for those who are maybe suspicious of religion and those who appreciate its history and tradition, despite its many flaws.
One of the things I did with my family this week was dig in clay-rich soil for natural crystals near a crystal mine. My fingers and skin were covered in the muck of the earth as I felt the sun on my back, and I was reminded again of the connection we have to the soil, the sun, and the cosmos. We are dust and to dust we shall return. Planting a garden or a few flowers in a pot on your patio is one small way we nurture and remember that connection.
I hope this reflection encourages and inspires you as you tune into the soil throughout our grow-along.
What does it really mean that we are made from dust? I find it shockingly beautiful — the idea that my life is drawn from the earth. Of course, that dust is made from exploding stars and from all the life that ever existed. It carries the memories of billions of years, of immense wisdom, of lives lived long ago. We are connected so deeply with all that has gone before and all that will be. One day, I shall return to that dust — and my being will join with the dust. Once, I considered “to dust you shall return” a sad thought. Now, I am amazed by it. My body is connected to ancient matter, distant stars, to all living things — we all share in the same stuff.
You can read more about this series and the prayer & a poem of inspiration that accompanies this reflection at Diana’s substack.
On our trip we also visited a chapel which was built inside a woodland garden. The architectural design is meant to draw your eyes to the trees rather than take away from their beauty. I’m inspired to do the same with my own faith; how do I blend in with the natural world and draw attention to the beauty of creation, rather than put on a show that is in opposition? What does this look like in practice? I’d love for us to reflect on some ideas together.
Grace to you, friends.
This is a beautiful post, Janette. Always inspired by your words and thoughts. 💗