Jesus will be heading into the garden soon. At this point in our Lenten journey, are we ready to go with him? Maybe we can take a few pointers from an old-time folk song.

I recently heard Garden Song, a tune that I had long forgotten about. Its catchy melody and rhyme triggered childhood memories of singing along, not realizing at a young age the significance of the lyrics.

Written by David Mallette and made famous in 1979 by the unmistakeable voice of singer John Denver, Garden Song is often associated with a folksy, perhaps even environmentally friendly, outlook on life, some might say aimed primarily at children (some readers may remember when Denver sang this song on The Muppets. But when I heard it a few weeks ago it struck me in a very Lenten way.

“Inch by inch, row by row, gonna make this garden grow. All it takes is a rake and a hoe and a piece of fertile ground,” sings Denver. “Inch by inch, row by row, someone bless these seeds I sow. Someone warm them from below til the rain comes tumblin’ down.”

Aren’t we all trying to cultivate our spiritual gardens in Lent? Lent is a time to “dig” deep into the soil of our lives. We can take time to really evaluate what makes up that soil. Is it nutrient rich? Does it have all the elements needed to grow fruit that will nourish our souls? What does nutrient-rich spiritual soil even look like? In Lent, we are told that we build up our soil with prayer, fasting and almsgiving. Have we made these three pillars a priority, and are we ready to turn the corner into Holy Week?

“Pullin’ weeds and pickin’ stones, man is made of dreams and bones,” goes the third verse.

I couldn’t think of a better image to describe the Lenten journey than “pullin’ weeds and pickin’ stones.” Have we successfully pulled some weeds and picked some stones? Are we still battling the weeds and stones (maybe boulders?) of sin in our lives? Have we cleared the soil of our nagging vices of sins against charity, lack of prayer, addiction to things that take us away from God? Have we gone to confession lately?

The song continues: “Feel the need to grow my own, ‘cause the time is close at hand.” The time is indeed close at hand. We will soon recall Jesus’s agony in the Garden of Gethsemane on Holy Thursday after the celebration of the Mass of the Lord’s Supper. Are we ready to accompany Jesus on that garden journey? How does our garden compare to that garden? How have we dealt with suffering in our lives? Have we desired to spend time with Jesus in the garden, when he contemplates and feels the burden of every sin ever committed in the history of mankind?

What about the “rain” we are waiting on to “come tumblin’ down?” In his Lenten series Return (produced by Ascension Presents) Father John Burns talks about the scene from the Gospel of Luke where Jesus experiences agony while praying in the garden. Father Burns says that Christ “sweat tears of blood upon the ground to sanctify the earth that had been cursed since the fall.” Like rain is necessary to make any garden grow, these drops of Christ’s blood are necessary for our salvation.

We know that suffering in our lives can help us to grow. But times of suffering can also be times of our greatest temptation to despair, to turn from God. It’s those times – like Jesus in the garden asking God to take the cup of suffering from him if possible but ultimately declaring that the Father’s will be done – that we need to be the most vigilant in tending to our spiritual gardens.

“Old crow watchin’ hungrily from his perch in yonder tree,” the song continues, “In my garden I’m as free as that feathered thief up there.” The devil most certainly waits to destroy our spiritual gardens, to pick away at the seeds we’ve sown or the fruits we bear. The key is to remember that we always have the freedom, as the song says, to say yes to God’s will, making the conscious choice to continue tending our garden with care.

While Mallett and Denver most likely did not intend a Lenten interpretation of Garden Song, God works in mysterious ways, including through a 1970s folk song. All the better if we can use these lyrics to pause at this point in our Lenten journey, gather our rake and hoe and make sure our spiritual gardens are prepared to join Jesus in his garden.

Lazzuri writes from her home in Nova Scotia, where she lives with her husband, four of her six children, and her mom. She can be reached at clarelazzuri@gmail.com.