The Wound Beneath the Soil

One of the things I’ve learned from gardening is that when something isn’t growing, you can’t always see the problem.

Sometimes the issue is beneath the soil.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.

Because once I started asking myself why the failures in my summer garden bothered me so much, I realized the cucumbers weren’t really the problem.

Neither were the tomatoes.

Something deeper was hurting.

I’ve spent a lot of my life wondering what it feels like to be chosen.

I wasn’t the child my parents had to worry about. I was independent. Responsible. Mature. I could handle things.

And while that was probably a gift they were grateful for, sometimes it left me feeling like I wasn’t the one who needed to be chosen first.

Then I grew up.

I dated. I loved people. I watched relationships end. And I watched some of those same people eventually get married.

But never me.

I never became a mother either. Cancer and a hysterectomy changed that possibility for me.

And if I’m honest, there have been nights when I’ve wondered:

“God, what is it about me?”

Why do the things I deeply desire seem to be the things I don’t receive?

That’s a painful question.

But I’m learning that I don’t have to bury that pain in order to have faith.

I can bring it to God.

Psalm 139 reminds us that we are known by God at the deepest level—not simply for what people see, but for who we are and how we were formed.

So maybe healing begins with getting honest about what’s underneath the surface.

Maybe the question isn’t simply, “Why didn’t this work?”

Maybe it’s:

“What did this disappointment make me believe about myself?”

That’s the question I’m taking to God this season.

And I’m learning that grief isn’t failure.

I can grieve what didn’t happen without allowing it to define everything that will happen next.

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🌿 Tended Ground Evening Mint Tea

Makes: 1 cup
Prep time: 5 minutes

Ingredients

• 1 tablespoon fresh mint leaves, gently torn
  or 1–2 teaspoons dried mint
• 8 ounces hot water
• ½ teaspoon honey or agave, optional
• 1 small squeeze of fresh lemon, optional

Directions

1. Prepare the mint.
   If using fresh mint, gently tear or lightly crush the leaves between your fingers. This helps release the aromatic oils.
2. Steep.
   Place the mint in a mug and pour 8 ounces of just-boiled water over it.
3. Cover and steep for 5–7 minutes.
   Covering the mug helps keep the fragrant oils from escaping with the steam.
4. Strain.
   Remove the mint leaves.
5. Finish to taste.
   Add a small amount of honey if you’d like sweetness. A squeeze of lemon gives it a brighter flavor, but I actually prefer this particular tea without lemon for an evening cup.