By Gladyce Janky
When I was a little girl, I wanted a vegetable garden. As a “city girl” I had no idea how to start, so my mother helped. We selected seeds, corn, carrots, radishes, green beans, fertilized the soil, and prepared the rows for planting. Every day after school I visited the little patch, giving it my attention and care. I made sure the soil was moist and pulled any stray weeds.
As often happens with children, I lost enthusiasm for the project and became distracted by other interests. I neglected to water the garden for a few days. When I returned, some of the seeds had popped through the surface, but they were withered. In other rows, the tiny seedlings had shriveled and died. I ran to the house, distraught, and I told my mother about the state of the garden. I had assumed she would water it, just like she fed the dog, when I forgot. My mother taught me an important life lesson that day when she told me that, for my garden to thrive, it required tending. She explained “If we neglect them, the plants die, the soil becomes barren of the nourishment provided by water and fertilizer, and weeds invade the space.”
Over time, I have come to realize that the lesson of tending goes far beyond the care of a garden. My friendships cannot flourish if I neglect to “fertilize” them. Family members need my daily attention and care. My communities wither if my neighbors and I are too distracted to become involved. And the most important relationship of all, my friendship with God, needs tending or it gets lost in the weeds of life (busyness, worries, doubts, my need to control everything, etc.).
This year, I am approaching Lent as a faith garden I want to “tend”, relying on Ignatian practices to prepare for my retreat and stay focused.
Ignatian retreats begin with a time of preparation used to set an intention, or specific desire, such as:
I want to be more aware of God’s presence.
I want to deepen my trust and love for God.
I desire to be open to God’s love, healing, or forgiveness.
A traditional practice is giving up something for Lent. This year, I am surrendering activities (busyness) so I can slow down and savor the Lenten journey. Rather than trying to discern what to surrender, I can sit quietly and prayerfully ask God, “What activities do You want me to put aside to have more time to spend with You?”
A third practice is to keep a journal that tracks daily encounters with God in scripture, wisdom literature, nature, or in the voices of those encountered throughout the day.
Starting each day with a special Lenten prayer routine reinforces that this is not “ordinary time” but a sacred time for spiritual growth. Some suggestions are:
Write a personal prayer of surrender to use at the start of each day.
Ask for the grace of attentiveness to how God shows His Presence — and watch for Holy surprises.
Practice interior awareness to notice feelings or dispositions such as consolation, desolation, resistance, longing, etc., and journal these.
Practicing a daily consciousness examen.
A well-tended vegetable garden feeds my body. A well-tended Lenten experience feeds my soul and prepares me for the work of tending the garden patches God has given me — friends, family, and community. And it can sprout desires to be more empathetic and compassionate toward everyone and everything in God’s garden.
Question: What are your plans for Lent?
