I love to play in the dirt, otherwise known as gardening.

There’s something incredibly satisfying about planting a tiny seed or baby plant and helping it grow into something beautiful or tasty… or both.

Each spring when I plant seeds in the ground or transplant seedlings I’ve sown indoors, I have specific expectations. I expect beans to grow into bean plants and make more beans. I expect the asparagus to poke out of the ground so that I can cut its tender shoots and eat them. I expect zucchini seeds to grow so I can get my fill of summer squash (and supply the neighbors with plenty of it, too). And I expect those boring-looking zinnia seeds to provide me with non-stop colorful smiles from late spring until the first hard frost.

When I am tending my plants or sitting on the deck enjoying the colors, scents, and food growing in my gardens, I believe that in some small way I know how God felt at the end of the days He created the universe, because when I look at my garden the words that come to mind are, “It is good.”