Last year I never made time to thin our carrots.
It’s tedious, careful work on hands and knees.
When I see the rows of tiny leafy greens, nestled together
I balk at removing so many healthy ones.
Yet all winter long as I use the crooked, puny carrots that grow in unthinned rows,
I am reminded day by day to take time to thin this year’s carrots.
Summer is here. The morning is cool.
I kneel and thin the carrots--carefully leaving space for each to grow.
I hardly dare to look back where I have been.
Even the ones left standing aren’t really standing.
They lean and droop, unused to holding themselves erect.
But I have learned that in not many days,
When I return to check on them,
If they are in soil that’s rich and damp,
They will again be reaching for the sun.
When our children have left family, leaders, friends--
All the things that have kept them nestled close--
I’ve learned that they too may lean and droop a while.
But each time I trust that if we have loved and taught them well,
It won’t be long before we can tell that
They are standing tall again--
Because they, too, are reaching for The Son.
by Karen Christensen Luthy