Last night we broke new ground, expanding our gardens beyond our original design. We planted corn and squash and, just as we finished, rain and then a rainbow blessed us with a promise in our new planting.
This place amazes me. We do everything by hand here. We don’t have tillers or a tractor or any of the modern conveniences of home. Instead we have a Ugandan style hoe and some jerrycans to haul water from the river below. We have the strength in our bodies and an unwavering faith in our hearts. We are led by the small windows of cooler temperatures in the mornings and evenings of each day. We worked until night fell and, in the coming week, will continue planting the overflow of kale, cabbage, and okra seedlings into this new space. We’ll plant onions too. Lots of them. As many as possible. We will propagate plants and share seeds. We will tend to this patch of earth that God has given us and be amazed by the miracle of all the promise that comes into being.
This morning I awoke from a dream in which we were taking all the overflow from the garden and feeding it to the elderly. There were many of us and we went out into communities looking for those who were alone and unable to care for themselves. For some, we even made sure they had cookers and charcoal. We also began to cook. There were so many people who came and it took on a life of its own. After all, that is often how the best things happen.
Several hours later and the dream still feels as real as my hands did while planting those seeds.