Transplant

Wow - how this month as passed me by. I suppose it's the gearing up for the annual Reformed Youth Movement conference, the garden planting, the working, the time to enjoy being outside, the watching the weather to see if my town was going to be hit by a tornado (for which, I don't have quite a category for in Colorado - so common in Alabama but not here, though common enough that we have sirens and a speaker system which tells us to take cover and when things are all clear. I felt a little like I was in a communist country with a deep male voice broadcasting all over the city), the enjoying of my fascinating children, the sorting through requests for grant writing, and the spending of wonderful time with good friends.

I got it into my head to turn the back six feet of my backyard into a new garden bed, joining it with one already there. I have a great vision of a huge garden back there, that I can look at from kitchen windows. But classic Alexa - good idea but with little consideration of the execution (though I did plant low maintenance and low water plants so I at least thougth about my energy in the future). It's actually turned out quite good so far, but the time and investment was more than I thought it would be. A lot more. Perhaps, I should also step back from my perfect view of the garden and let it unfold some on it's own. Just relax!

As a part of the big plan, I moved a Russian sage from another side garden to the back garden to give it more space and sun. I put the dear, two-year-old plant in the ground, and within minutes (and I do mean minutes) it wilted. Oh, the shock! it said to me. Why did you tear me away from my cozy home? What did you do to my roots?

I have tried not to obsess about this plant, tried so hard not to anthropromorphize the lovely thing, tried not to let it keep me up at night. The first day, I checked in the plant regularly. I talked to Michael about my worries. I check on it daily. I've even stroked it a few time and encouraged it that things will be okay. I may have even prayed for it. Well, it's still not happy about the move, but I think it's putting up a fight.

The transplant made me think of a close friend who found out last Friday that she and her family will - baring a miracle - have to move out of state for her husband's job. They don't know where yet or when, and she's brokenhearted. Her family moved to Longmont with the intention of staying and minstering in this community. After seven years and with kids now in high school, they are facing a move again. Transplanting is hard, and in plant speak, there is actual shock.

How I pray that my friend will be able to stay in Longmont. Selfishly, I've had enough of friends moving away. I am brokenhearted about being the side garden who seens dear friends lifted from their homes to far away gardens. No doubt, transplanting can be a good thing - potted plants sometimes are ready to be transplanted, needing a bigger pot, outdoor plants sometimes need new locations, and organ transplants save lives (and, as I just discovered online, random, can give a person a new face). I pray such becomes the case with my friend's transplant.