10.17.2025 | Ordinary Friday

​We Bloom Until the End
“They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green.” — Psalm 92:14
 
The clouds are gathering, heralding the weekend’s forecast of rain. We welcome this heavenly moisture—it’s the Garden’s baptism, a renewal of soil and soul alike. Everything looks a bit tired and faded just now, but a good soaking will revive the weary stems and refresh the colors that remain.
 
Even as the plants begin their quiet descent into winter, they do not mourn the passing of time. They age with grace, offering their best until the very end. That is their gift. And perhaps one of the gifts of aging—for us—is learning to rest in who we are, rather than grieving who we are not.
 
It’s not aging itself that unsettles us, but the fear of it. The dread of decline, of irrelevance, of invisibility. But life does not end until it ends. And in the meantime, there is so much more to do.
 
When we count age only in losses, we miss the wonder. Aging is not a condition to be pitied, nor a state to apologize for. As an old gardener, I see it as my sacred duty to remain vibrant and bright—to bloom in spirit, even as the seasons shift. I don’t know how much time I have left, but I am determined not to waste it.
 
This is the part of life the Psalmist must have meant when he prayed, “O taste and see that the Lord is good.” There is sweetness still. Even now. Especially now.