By March or April I am ready for the spring flowers and sprouts of plants that begin to emerge in my flower beds. The early crocus, grape hyacinth, and jonquils bring bright color as the drab palette of winter begins to disappear for another year. I start checking out plants at the garden centers, dusting off the ceramic pots and deciding where I will use them and colors of plants that I will pair together. I buy good organic potting mix to help support the growth of the plants I will purchase. I start out so enthusiastic! I promise the plants I will do a better job of feeding them throughout the season.

Then June, July and August arrive. Frankly I do my best just to keep my plants watered daily. There just isn’t enough time for the care I want to provide. I let life get in the way of caring for my plants, which is also a way I renew my spirit.

This year I lost a couple of flowers in pots, in the back of the house, where they receive full sun every day. They were full sun plants but I guess the heat was too much for them. Yesterday I picked up replacement annuals for those pots and a new perennial for a spot I decided to pull out a plant that isn’t thriving. For some reason I found myself thinking about the daily gospel readings of this week, from the Gospel of Matthew, in which Jesus teaches with the parables of seed that falls on good, rich soil and the seed that is withered by the sun or doesn’t grow because of shallow or rocky soil.

Last week I mentioned the National Eucharistic Congress in my blog. My friend Kelly and I were supposed to attend as parish representatives. We were registered, had hotel reservations and were looking forward to a renewal, a revival in devotion to the Blessed Sacrament not only in our personal spiritual lives but for our parish. Then life happened. We each had different issues that arose so we had to be honest about our ability to attend the Congress. We knew we had to cancel. We knew it was the right decision but as it grew closer, we were also disheartened by our decision and not being with others in Indianapolis for this momentous event, the first Eucharistic Congress in 83 years.

I planned to watch the Revival sessions each evening, and as many other talks as I could, grateful for the gift of live-streaming and those covering the Congress making it accessible to those of us at home. But I was sad about not being there in person. Then the grace of the Holy Spirit surprised me with the extent of the impact of participating in the event remotely. Because of the tears and raw emotions I was feeling, I was probably better off watching from home. I could sing, cry, laugh and pray with only the cats wondering what the heck was going on. I felt a renewed spirit. I was challenged and convicted in areas that I need to take a deep look at. I continue to ponder the way I am using my gifts and how I might be called to use them differently or in new ways.

In closing his talk, Fr. Mike Schmitz, asked us to look at the areas of our lives where we put out the flame of love of God, the “fire extinguishers” or areas we let the world get in the way of a desire to love God more intimately. He also reminded us that we can’t take all the lessons and desires from Congress and jam them back into daily life without making some changes. I assessed that in my life. I committed to some daily changes and expanded prayer time in order to listen to God more closely.

Then almost a week later, stress and inner turmoil, set in just like the heat of summer, scorching my desires, just like it scorched the plants on my back patio. I chastised myself for only being able to keep my new promises for more than 4 days. Thursday and Friday were rough as I berated myself for not being dedicated enough. Then, reflecting on the scripture from this week, I found myself thinking that we have to nurture and tend the soil of our spiritual lives daily so that the birds don’t come and pluck the seeds of change away. The seeds in good, rich soil are not completely protected from the heat and the birds but they have a better chance of surviving. So I asked myself what I needed to do to make sure the seeds of my desire to spend more time in quiet contemplation were planted in deep and fertile soil.

The world will try to grab our attention and tell us that our desires are not possible or perhaps even worth working at. It will tell us that superficial pleasures are more valuable than inner peace and tranquility. It will tell us that our deepest desires are not possible. I think I would rather fertilize the soil and keeping working at it, even when it’s hard! If you find yourself in a similar place, don’t give up! I’m here for you, be assured of my prayers for each of you.

Wishing you abundant peace, Deena

Photo: flowers growing in a wooded area in Oregon, Illinois