Protection

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Do you see them? Those tiny sprouts starting in the soil? I seeded Esmerelda Head Lettuce the other day and watered them and covered them with cardboard. For anyone reading this who is in Southwestern Manitoba you may already know that the meteorologists have been predicting a drought coming our way for the summer of 2021, and maybe beyond. I’m not going to pretend that I am some Pintrest-worthy gardener or farmer by any means. I can say that over the years I have gleaned knowledge from my parents, in-laws, incredible local organic farmers, and books. Last year I had a terrible time germinating anything that I direct-seeded into the garden and none of my corn came up. So this year I am determined to do all I can to ensure the seeds that go into the garden have a fighting chance to germinate and grow despite the lack of rain.

Drought. Heat. Wind. Just the other day as I was driving home I witnessed a dust storm that was so thick I had to pull over on the side of the gravel road and pause for a while until the wind passed because I couldn’t see the road ahead. A farmer’s top-soil was blowing away in the wind. Parched hard, cracked dirt under my boots. Last year in my garden, where despite my best intentions, despite the soil being tilled, weeded, amended with manure and carefully seeded with the best, choicest seeds, and watered by hand, nothing seemed to grow well. The battle for those seeds of hope and life to grow seemed lost when everything else in nature seemed to war against it. They needed rain. They needed protection.

My mother-in-law taught me to start growing seeds indoors early and then move them out to the greenhouse when the weather started warming up. Snuggled up in front of a south-facing window I started tomatoes, peppers, and herbs so that by the time the weather was warm enough for me to put them outside they would be big enough to start producing fruit (at least sooner than if I had planted seeds outdoors). She also showed me that you can’t just take those same plants you’ve cared for inside in a safe, warm environment and plunk them in the ground and expect them to flourish. Plants need to go through a “hardening off” period where they gradually adjust, acclimatize to the temperature fluctuations and elements of the great outdoors. She has all kinds of ways helping the plants toughen up while being protected: Kozy Koats for tomatoes and peppers, shingles strategically stuck in the ground around a plant to provide shade from the sun and shelter from the wind, coffee cans, and screens to help these plants adapt and have the best chance of survival in a sometimes harsh and unforgiving environment.

I’ve covered these little lettuce seeds with cardboard to help retain the moisture in the soil, protect them from the weather (and the chickens – let’s be honest), and give them the best chance of germinating and setting down tender roots and grow to the best of their ability. I think that people need the same thing. In our lives there are times when we can seem to thrive wherever we go and don’t need any help to do so (the voluntary Manitoba Maple seedlings in my garden are proof of this). There are also times when the rain doesn’t fall, and it feels like our lives become a wasteland of unproductive seeds, lost hopes and dreams, of going through the motions with no results. Drought. Heat. Wind. It’s out of our control. That’s when we need protection the most. To be lovingly “covered” by the neighbours around us who offer food, willing hands to clean up yards and muck out barns, seed fields, and make hay. To be offered “shelter” by friends who come by for a glass of wine or coffee and to sit awhile and listen or just distract us from the thoughts that plague the wee hours of the night. To be prayed for by family near and far for comfort and healing and support in a time when they cannot be close to us and desperately wish they could. Protection in so many forms for our hearts and minds to help us through things we never could have predicted, things out of our control.

A neighbour was buried today a few miles down the road from our farm. He was a son, brother, husband, father, uncle, nephew, friend, and too young. On a day like this there are so many hearts that need protection to make it through this time of loss and grieving. So I want to leave you with this blessing… Blessed are those that as they are able, reach out and be the “blanket” that covers and protects those around them who feel buffeted by a relentless wind, bruised, broken-hearted, and parched by the sun, and gently whisper, “It’s ok, we’ve got you.” Blessed are those that when their own strength is gone accept the love and strength from those around them with grace. Blessed are those that see the possibility for the seeds planted in our lives when we can’t see it and gently nurture them into life. Blessed are those that offer safe spaces and places for the weary to find rest without judgment, without expectation. May you, somehow, be protected and offer protection in turn. And so it is…

Psalm 91:1-2 “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Lord. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.””