Today I moved our compost bin across the yard. We started this pile in October--just shortly after moving into our new digs. Felt like we were staking a claim--setting up camp. Nothin' says home like a working compost bin. (This is not an actual picture of our bin. But someone has this beaut and thought to take a picture and put it out there for me to download.) (Thank you.) All winter long, we trudged through the snow, rain, sleet and hail to deposit vegetable and fruit peelings, eggshells and other compost-ready kitchen scraps. Add three feet of snow. More avocado pits. A bit of rain. Sun. Leaves. More snow. Since it's a new heap and we didn't do much turning over the last six months, I did not expect to find beautiful black soil when I shoveled that pile.
But, as I turned it over onto the tarp (to drag it across the yardÂ to it's new home)...there it was...black gold. Not entirely...I still found bits of the Halloween pumpkins, a pineapple top (which looks like my dreads in a ponytail) and a beautifully preserved orange. But most of it was rich soil ready for planting.
Can't help but think ofÂ Sunday's text from Isaiah 43. "I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" We haveÂ the priveledge of seeing a new thing spring forth--in the most surprising and delightful way. Somethings are preserved in the pile. But most of it it rich soil ready for planting.