Yesterday morning, after breakfast and washing dishes, I decided to shell the peas I received on “Pea Sunday.” (Thanks, Peter for sharing your garden with us.) I stood at the kitchen counter near the sink, the plastic bag opened revealing it’s greenness, a bowl waiting to receive the round sweet peas, and pondered the process of shelling peas.
I watched my fingers as they explored the shape of the pod, looking for that soft spot that would split the seam. The familiar sensation of running my thumb through the pod to push the peas out and into the bowl, every now and then slipping its contents into my mouth for ‘sampling’, was not simply in my fingers but in my mind and heart as well. Years of summer work on a farm and in my father’s garden made this work a part of me.
It is good to know where your food comes from. It is good to know how it grows and the work involved. It is good to wipe the earth off a fresh cucumber and chomp on it while still near the mound. These are good experiences – direct connection to our source of nourishment.
And so, while shelling peas, I began my morning prayers, one pod – one person. I prayed for openness to God’s Greening Spirit. I prayed they might feel God urging them out and forward. I prayed that in their brokenness and separation they might come to know God as a healing presence. I prayed, being full of Grace and Mystery, they might be sweet nourishment to those both near and far. I prayed that in their togetherness they might discover just how much they could do.
There were far more pods than I had people to pray for, so I prayed for our world and national leaders, and prayed for the poor and needy, I prayed for our teachers and students, and prayed for the earth and our food supply… I then gave thanks for the simple meditation of peapod shelling and the time it gave me to reflect on those I care about and the world around me. This must be why eating fresh food is so good for us.
Grace and Peace,