The Garden

    

          "A little chaos is good for a garden," And she smiled as she surveyed what once I proudly called my garden.
          I frowned.
          It wasn't much of one any longer. The weeds towered above the seedlings, and in many places, a visitor couldn't differentiate between the two and so left footprint craters in the rows. Still instead of withering and dying like any self-respecting plant would do, given the conditions, they kept soldiering upward toward the sun. I had planted them; the least I could do was give them a chance, but time - time was always my downfall.
          "A little chaos is good for a gardener."
          "How's that?" Nothing good existed in my garden. Nothing good existed in chaos.
          "A little chaos is good for the soul." Her smile only grew larger, showing her teeth, as I scowled harder.
          "I don't feel good about this. I feel awful...and guilty. That probably sounds stupid - they're just some plants." The Bok Choi's leaves were yellow - maybe from lack of water or lack of nutrients or too much of one or the other. One row of the purple Kale was actually growing while the other, Ragged Jack variety, couldn't even be seen above the weeds.
          "How can you say any of this is good?"
          "Because I am in the business of seeing potential --every gardener is; though a heart can become discouraged -- it's the curse of perfectionism in a very imperfect world. It is order that causes a plant lover's soul to tire and lose optimism."
          She seemed to have followed my gaze to the drowning Kale, and she moved in that direction, sidestepping each byword plant. She lowered herself down beside the row and used both hands to jerk dandelion, wild lettuce, and cheat grass from between the plants.
          "If order and perfection were achieved, what then of striving and dreaming and yearning? What of surprises? Surprises are the best part of gardening."
          "I don't like surprises."
          "Don't you?" She lifted her head and gazed about. She must think it to be a strange place for a garden, surrounded on three sides by wild terrain and thirsty dust. Everyone else had their little plots in luscious corners of their yards where they were protected and where they perhaps had a chance.
         "I think you do. I think you've just forgotten. Surprises to us were planted - hmm - long before by our Creator. What of the Sunflowers? Did you plant them?"
         I wandered over to where she was, almost stepping on top of my own garden rows, and peeked over her shoulder. Those. They hadn't miraculously disappeared yet.
          "No. Why would I plant them in my German Giant radish row?"
          "What about the wildflowers? I know you've noticed those."
          Who couldn't notice those? They were everywhere, flawless in their beauty and placement. Irritating, almost, because regardless of how hard I worked, my garden would never be as beautiful as when the high-elevation desert awoke in Spring.
          "Those are surprises. You are blessed much to have let a little chaos thrive because it's in that He lets the surprises sneak in. Most people are so concentrated on perfection and order that they never realize what unexpected surprises hide in the soil. These are reminders that we don't have everything under control."