St. Patrick Presbyterian Church, Epc

As the days start to lengthen and we draw closer to the season of Lent, I start to think about my garden. When I'm standing by my grill, or am romping with Addison in the backyard, I am more and more drawn to the mystery around me. My yard is a mess of brown grass; my beds are full of death and decay; and the place where I grow my herbs, vegetables and asparagus looks forlorn and hopeless. But all is not lost. This is not my first rodeo. I know that lying dormant under their cold dead ancestors is life and glory waiting for the right conditions to call them forth. Lent will officially signal the time for weeding and clearing out-from death will come resurrection. The most profound mystery of all of this is that I will put seeds in the ground; and with sunlight, warmth, and water, from seemingly dead seeds will come forth an abundance of tomatoes, peppers, and herbs--things that will bring delight to my table and joy to my heart. I suppose folk have always been struck by the mystery of this. Before we had farm