Advent is on its way! Are you looking for a simple yet meaningful daily resource to journey with through this special season?
My poetry-based devotional, PILGRIM GOD, is available as an ebook for $2.99 OR free to read with Kindle Unlimited!
The devotional is also perpetual, so once you buy it you can use it any year.
May it bless your Advent season!
Content Warning: this devotional contains a brief, un-detailed mention of an accidental personal injury. While I won’t be sharing any gory details, I know some people find such talk uncomfortable, so please be aware before you read on and feel free to skip if you find such topics difficult to enjoy. Thank you!
is it any wonder that garlic features so heavily in folktale and magic? holy scent, heaven's flavor, paper skin, and the ability to reproduce itself one clove, once cleft, becomes many. like a tiny dragon, planted it waits holding its fiery breath in the dark soil until the warmth of spring kindles it: spreading green wings to the sky.
Saturday morning was beautiful. Snappy cold, dew on the ground. It felt like the perfect opportunity to get outside and finally plant our garlic.
Garlic is a strange little plant, but pretty typical for an allium root. For best results in our region, garlic likes to be planted in the late fall (mid-October, ideally) and allowed to sit in the ground through the rain, frost, and snow of winter until it emerges in the spring. Because of this, garlic is one of my favorite plants to plant. It’s always faithful, always one of the first plants to show up every year, and it always feels like a little miracle.
This year, admittedly, I was a bit behind on getting it planted. But it turns out that time truly isn’t bound by the human calendar, and a delayed average first frost gave me a bit of wiggle-room. I separated out our cloves (I like to plant about 50 cloves from the summer’s harvest, which leaves us with plenty to eat through into spring and even summer) and headed out to the garden to stick them in the ground.
Being so focused on indoor things, work and writing and other tasks, I hadn’t been in the garden for a while. I had almost forgotten how good it felt to turn over the soil, to smell that unique scent of good earth. To take off the garden gloves and let my fingertips kiss the ground. It felt nice to take the time out of a day to do something tangible, physical.
I managed to get about half the cloves in the ground and was rounding the garden box to start planting the second half when—there’s just no way to put this delicately—I stepped on an old nail. Even my thick-soled work boot didn't stand a chance.
It was a shock, to say the least. I won’t go into detail. The details don’t matter. All I can say is, I knew immediately that my day had changed. You know that feeling?
Cut to a few hours later. I was all cleaned and bandaged, I had received a tetanus booster (just in case), and I was sitting indoors with my foot up, unable to do much more than sit and think about how foolish I felt. I know that our garden has scrap wood around, that the old box I plant our garlic in has some hidden hardware sticking out of it. I got sloppy and paid the price.
It could have been worse. Much worse. But it was easier to think about the bad than the good, at that moment.
But here’s the truth…
Miracles are a funny thing. Garlic is a little miracle, a fairly obvious one (like most garden plants are). You plant it in the coldest, wettest part of the year and it quietly turns to fragrance and flavor underground. Planting good things in good soil on a good day feels like an obvious miracle, and stepping on a nail in the midst of it all can feel like a curse.
But there were miracles pre-nail AND post-nail, and when I think hard I can find them. For example, my thick-soled boot really did take the brunt of the damage. Also, I had clean water and first aid supplies in my house to care for the wound properly, to make sure I did my best not to let it get infected. And hey: getting a tetanus booster shot was free of charge! How often does peace of mind come at no cost? The fact that we even have a vaccine against a deeply dangerous bacteria that kills people worldwide is a miracle in itself. Tetanus infection isn’t a small thing, but with one quick shot from a jaded-but-professional pharmacy worker I was suddenly protected from harm.
That’s…amazing, isn’t it? Remarkable, as in: worth remarking upon.
I feel that I notoriously over-spiritualize, and I’m not trying to turn every misfortune into a silver lining. But I do think that we often focus a little too hard on how miracles feel. Good things should feel good, right? But sometimes good things are just good, regardless of how they make us feel. Goodness isn’t a feeling. It’s the character of a thing. Its essence.
A tetanus shot doesn’t feel good, but it is good.
All things considered, I wish I hadn’t hurt myself on Saturday. But I’m glad, at least, that the miracles didn’t end when I did.
By God’s grace, they never do.
Moved by this piece (or simply feel like supporting my coffee habit) and want to contribute a one-time donation? Click the Tip Jar button below!
For more writings like this, subscribe for free!
Miracles happen all around us every day. We often forget to look for them. Glad you weren't seriously injured!
“All things considered, I wish I hadn’t hurt myself on Saturday. But I’m glad, at least, that the miracles didn’t end when I did.” …. This is such a profound observation. The miracles don’t end just because something bad happens. So much to think about here! Thank you for sharing. Sending lots of love and prayers for healing!