Hope for Gardening

I sat, kneeled, and squatted until my muscles ached and burned from fatigue. My nails, even when covered with gloves, became encrusted with earth. The sun beat on my back. Sweat trickled down my neck. I, the greenthumb’s daughter, was gardening for the second weekend in a row. Let’s be real: I never voluntarily garden….

Hope for Spring

It was one of those days in which the rain kept coming. I stood behind my church’s connection desk, and watched as one of the greeter’s hair soared straight into the air, as the wind swirled and ruffled it to and fro. The drear and drizzle continued throughout most of the afternoon. It was the…