The Analogy of the Garden

I've been thinking about gardens the past year.  You might think it's because as a suburban homeowner I spend an annoying amount of time weeding and planting and doing all the things I once thought my own mother was boring for spending her time on.  But in truth, I've been thinking of gardens because of the way the pandemic changed school for my family.

One of my children is what we call 'wired differently' ... in other words, they have some special needs.  School has always looked different for this child.  In fact, all societal interactions look different for them.  We spent years figuring out how they fit in a traditional school setting, and we thought we just about had it figured out by the start of 2020.

When the pandemic hit, we shifted to remote learning, and after a small adjustment period realized our child was actually succeeding in this non-social setting in a way we hadn't seen before.  They could focus on the learning part they love, and had me as a consistent 'aide' while they worked (which the school system had to that point been unable or unwilling to provide).  The remote learning change allowed things this child had never been able to do in a school setting.

A hop and a skip later into the following school year, we found ourselves forced by pandemic circumstances into something I told myself I'd never do: homeschooling.  As an ardent supporter of public school systems, a teacher by trade myself, and someone who thrived in 'traditional' school environments, I never would have intentionally pulled my children from school to teach them at home.

Yet after years of trying to fit this child's needs into a traditional educational system, we finally, and inadvertently, found where they fit best, and it was home school.  I realized one afternoon as I was in my yard weeding around plants in a specific spot where nothing else would flourish the same way, that I needed to start viewing my child the way I do my garden.

A successful bloom for this child won't look like other kids in our neighborhood.  This child won't flourish in the same situations or same ways.  But they do flourish.  They just need different soil; they need a gardener who understands what kind of tending works, and is ok with their bloom appearing on a different timeline.  If their type of bloom is only ever visible to the world in a tiny specific moment that's missed if you aren't looking for it, like the Titan Arum plant which takes 7-10 years to get up the energy to bloom for a single day, the care and tending are worth it.  I don't need to worry that this flower of mine isn't going to be planted in the same environment I was as a student.

Aren't all God's children like flowers?  There is such wonderful diversity of beauty and function in individual humans, and God's planted us all here on this earth to thrive as examples of an amazing creation.

But we must take the analogy a bit further than we tend to be comfortable with as people trained up in homogenous societies where we think there's a 'right' way to do everything.

There is no 'right' way for all flowers to be tended to.  What works for a rose will kill a cactus; what's needed for a magnolia will make an orchid suffer.  And 'thriving' looks different for each.  A thriving agave plant flowers once in a few decades; a thriving organ pipe cactus blooms only at night; thriving buttercups spread like wildfire.  That's how they're each designed.

Imagine the ridiculousness of a gardener attempting to care for every plant and flower with the same tools, the same methods, the same treatments ... and expecting them all to have identical results in spite of being different flowers.  It would be absurd.  Some plants are meant to be showstoppers all year round, some are meant to be reliably evergreen, some are intended to require painstaking, consistent care and attention in return for a few moments of visible glory.

I think God calls on us to re-frame the way we've learned to view humans.  We are a garden; we each require distinct and varied environments to thrive, and thriving doesn't mean we all bloom the same way or in the same situations or for the same lengths of time.

My child may require a very specific set of circumstances to thrive, and that thriving may be a bloom very few people will have the privilege to see, because it doesn't come in the expected moments when other flowers may bloom.  The attention of the gardener may be even more important for this flower - it's one that won't thrive with casual care, or any type of soil.  And that's ok.  That's right.  That makes sense in the natural world I see around me that God has so carefully crafted with rich diversity.  And it's ok that other flowers bloom freely and easily and in less curated environments.

I wish we could view things this way without feeling threatened by it.  People, parents, societies, and yes, Christians, have taught ourselves that we should all grow the same way.  That a successful child looks and acts a certain way, and that a successful parent provides x, y, and z to get them there.  That a 'thriving' Christian looks and acts a certain way, and participates in x, y, or z types of ministries.  Nowhere in God's creation do we see an example of this being true.  We see countless examples of the opposite.

What holds us back from viewing ourselves the way we view our gardens?  I plant my ferns in the shade and water them liberally.  My roses need full sun and occasional pruning.  My peonies don't look like much for most of the year, but for one week, when they get their moment to shine ... Wow.  What would I tell someone who asked why I don't try to get my peonies to bloom as often as my roses?  What would I tell someone who insisted my ferns needed to be in full sun and then complained that they weren't doing well?  Would I have the courage to give the same response when someone questions the environment my child needs, the way their blooming looks, or the way my relationship with God thrives best?

What kind of plant did God make you?  Where do you thrive, and what does that look like?  What care do you need to get there?  Are you planted in the right environment for you?  Don't look to the blooms next to you and compare - God's kingdom doesn't work like that.  Look at creation, value the diversity, and tend to who you are created to be.