The Grass Is Green Here

By Christine Jayakaran

January 16^th, 2022

It really isn't, because I don't have a lawn. I do have a few indoor plants that have surprisingly survived one year of coexisting with me and the clan. They have made it through many mini ninja wars, indoor tennis, curious sniffs from a canine and dry spells when water was available but somehow did not make it to them. This week though, our gardener made a visit for some annual maintenance and in watching him work with our plants, I realised what true passion is. After a quick examination of the leaves and stems, he was quick to put his hands deep in the soil and uproot the plant completely while keeping the roots and the surrounding soil intact. All the while, he kept kneading his hands through the soil, adding compost and checking the moisture in it. His nails were blackened by the mud, his palms were lined with tracks of sand and his wrists were encased in moist soil yet his face was calm and you could see that he was completely in his element.

So in the spirit of full disclosure let me tell you this little known fact about me. I hate dirt. I hate sand. I do not enjoy the beach because of the endless dunes of sand that stick to my feet and then track into a car or room. I do not walk bare feet in lawns and I definitely do not put my hands in mud, even in the controlled environment of my indoor potted plants. When I bought these said plants, the horticulturist told me that to know when I needed to water them, I would have to stick my finger into the soil (just a bit) to see how dry it was. What I did instead was just to have a close look at the soil and then decide if I needed to water it. No touching it, prodding or poking it. No sir! I would just do a quick examination led by my decently functional eyes and get on with it.

It's interesting that when the gardener emptied the pot and threaded his fingers through the soil, he found that although I had watered it adequately that the soil wasn't draining enough and so he added a few stones for better drainage and then repotted it.

It was in dirtying his hands that he was actually able to identify the issue, address the problem and do the needful.

How often have we shun away from dirtying our hands in the needs of people?

We run from hearing too much of the need because we feel we have nothing to offer.

We turn away from hearing of the brokenness of our world lest we have to let go of our comfort to step into it.

I was challenged this week to once again fearlessly dirty my hands in this beautiful messy world I live in. I don't want to be distant from the cries of the lonely, the hurting and the wandering. I want to be there to make sure they are not alone nor are they forgotten.

It's a messy business yes - but it's the business of the Chief Gardener. He has given each of us gardens to tend to, and to thrive in - the least I can do for Him is to get my hands muddied with Him in order to help others find their roots in Him, grow with Him and blossom into everything He desires them to be.