Coffee grounds, tea leaves, orange peels, pistachio shells.
That’s what is in my compost bowl as I pull on my boots and make the trudge out to empty the bowl into the compost bin. The scraps of what nourished me through a zoom meeting, a planning session, and an attempt to write. These scraps could just as easily be thrown in the trash, but because of habit and hope, they go into the compost bin even in winter.
Coffee grounds, tea leaves, orange peels, pistachio shells.
Composting in winter is an act of habit and hope. The process of decomposing and becoming black gold for my summer garden isn’t possible in these freezing temps, but I have faith that the frozen bits of what got me through long zoom meetings in the depth of winter will once again heat up and the magic will begin. Compost seems like magic, doesn’t it? Time, air, sun, and the right mixture of stuff somehow becomes a part of the resurrection story. The ultimate in the death to life cycle sitting in a bin in the backyard, now accessible only in boots.
Coffee grounds, tea leaves, orange peels, pistachio shells.
Sometimes the prayers I lift, the psalms I read, the hours spent in meditation feel like collecting compost scraps in winter. I do them, but at times my practice remains frozen in place, unable to turn over something new in me. And yet, because of habit and hope, I keep practicing because I know that when the sun’s angle in the sky shifts to heat up the hardness of winter I will have something in me that is capable of fueling growth. The Holy Spirit works within the time, air, sun, and mixture of stuff that feeds my body and soul. The winter compost bin reminds me that faith holds seasons of sleep and growth, planting and harvest, each season lived with faith that our prayers, psalms, and meditations will bring us into a new season of life and we will once again know resurrection deep in our bones.
In Peace, Pastor Ruth
Let us pray:
Living God, you confound the world’s wisdom in giving your kingdom to the lowly and the pure in heart. Give us such a hunger and thirst for justice, and perseverance in striving for peace, that in our words and deeds the world may see the life of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Friend. Amen.