Summer is here, and almost everyone is complaining about the blazing hot temperatures. The actual temperature on this Monday afternoon is 96 degrees, but with the humidity, the “feel like” temperature is more than 100. So, there may be something to complain about. Forecasters are labeling it “dangerous,” so we do need to be cautious.  I, however, complain about winter’s cold temperatures, not the heat. So, as the saying goes, you can’t please all the people all of the time.

I welcome spring with open arms, and summer is my time to be outside in the garden and yard while especially enjoying my flowers. There’s always something good to report, some part of God’s creation to amaze me, and something to make me smile.

A friend posted this on her FB page yesterday: “Gardening has a way of seeping into your soul, and one day you find yourself, in the words of poet Mary Sarton in Plant Dreaming Deep, spending the first half hour of the morning ‘enjoying the air and watching for miracles.’”

Of course, negatives occur, but it’s counterproductive to concentrate on those. This weekend, I realized I’m going to have a bumper crop of green beans and cucumbers but discovered that a critter ate the tops of all my beets and the tender shoots of my broccoli.  When I was preparing my raised beds to plant vegetables this spring, I found four newborn bunnies hiding in the weeds, so I assume they enjoyed my small, growing vegetables. My Stella D’Oro lilies and irises were more beautiful than ever this year, but I have not one fig growing on my fig tree. So, disappointments and triumphs co-exist.

Gardening is like life itself. As widows we have experienced both the highs and lows of living. And we have learned to concentrate on the positive. It’s not beneficial for us or anyone around us to wallow in our losses or concentrate on what could or should have been. In her book, Lonliness, Elizabeth Elliot, challenges us as widows to accept this new stage of life as a gift. (She was widowed twice.) It’s a challenging assignment, and I’m not sure I’ve arrived at this lofty conclusion yet.

And, just like life, a garden is always changing. The beautiful blooms and leaves wither and die, but that nourishes next year’s growth. Maybe this is why Elliot said we are to receive widowhood as a gift. One part of our life has died, but we should allow the lessons we learned and the joys we shared to nourish our future.

In 597 BCE, the Israelites were exiled to Babylon because of their gross sin and idolatry. Life for the Jews was not easy. They lost everything; heartache surrounded them. But Jeremiah gave the exiles a wonderful promise that every widow can claim today: “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11).

As you enjoy this summer’s beauty, remember God’s promise to Israel and rejoice in the future He has planned for you.