May is my favourite month, hands down.  The bursting of beauty, colour, green, vibrancy, new life… it is everywhere.  I love looking in the garden – the dahlias are up and doing nicely, the lavender has blooms, the peonies are ready to burst with colour. 

Dill is everywhere, and I love it.  We go and pick as much as we want and flavour our potatoes, our soups.  I need to dry it… if you live near by and need some, drop me a line!

And there are bugs.

Every year this beautiful old big rose bush gets invaded by these ugly black bugs – they look like ticks, and if I was to be authentically honest, I’d say they tick me off.  They want to spread to my other rose bushes, and I was tempted to create “not welcome” signs… as if they could read.

Out comes my remedies – although I could use a little help here – and my bush has been sprayed with a mixture of dish soap, vinegar, peppermint oil and water.  So far, the bugs are winning. 

And I will not use pesticides…

There are days, in the midst of life, that I just want to be trouble free.  I don’t want to grieve or hurt, or deal with broken things.  I certainly don’t want to deal with the neighbourhood cat who has been using my garden as a litter box.  But it is those things… cats and bugs and broken things that can rankle us… and we realize there are deeper hurts we need to address.

I don’t want to hear about another cancer diagnosis.  I don’t want to deal with my own fragility, aches and pains.  I don’t want to deal with bureaucracy. (another blog, perhaps.)  I long for my grieving friends to feel better.  I want a perfect garden, free from bugs.

I spoke on hope yesterday.  Not the happy optimistic hope, but the hope we have in the eternal.  That we live temporary lives in a broken world.  And there is a promise of wholeness, of freedom, of joy, even in the midst of life.

When I am having a cranky day – and yes – I do have them at times, it is good to have safe places to talk about the heartaches of life.  And then remember the good things.

For the rose is still beautiful.  Yes, the thorn got me good the other day as I tried to exterminate the bug, but then I took time to smell the roses.  I sprayed myself with lavender and felt the calm.  I sat beside my fountain on my deck and admired the mountains, green with life. 

I had a great conversation with a friend.  I prayed with someone who was sad.  And like the butterfly – a bug turned beautiful, I saw the beauty. 

There will be bugs.  I am so very grateful for beauty. 

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