Healing and Repair: Lesson from the Compost Pile

Healing and Repair: Lesson from the Compost Pile

During my journey as a working mother, I often felt broken and in need of repair. But I learned so much about God’s love, mercy, and care for me during the healing process.

“…Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.” Psalm 30:5

Before the cell phone era, I had a full-time career, two young children, a husband who frequently worked overseas for long periods of time, and a seven-hour drive to my family support system. Feeling sorry for myself with too much work, too little time and overwhelming fatigue, I sat in my cubicle crying. I felt like garbage and wondered when relief might magically appear.

In His wisdom, God inspired me through unlikely sources – the compost pile and my mother. I was into gardening at the time and had begun composting. Composting piles are not a pretty sight when they are being newly formed.  They smell bad. But, as time passes, and the garbage piles up, heat and air and other matter work their magic to change it to a rich, black sweet-smelling substance that provides nourishment for other plant life to grow.

I was eating an orange for lunch one day, and as I peeled the skin and cleaned the segments of connective threads and pith, I realized that in the end, the peel and seeds are not waste. They are food for the compost, which, while in the transformation process, is messy and requires regular upkeep.

“Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. (Psalm 42:6)

My soul needed regular upkeep too, and that included nourishing it with scripture.  I read the New Testament mostly, but my mother loved the Psalms, and I never realized what richness, consolation and beauty they contained until we had a conversation about them. Remembering her advice to always give praise, no matter what, I made the compost connection as I bit into each piece of the orange. As the juice exploded in my mouth, I swallowed the sweetness along with my bitter-blue feelings. The peel and seeds became heralds of better things to come.  My poem below, Citrus Blues, was the fruit of that transformative day.

“And he who sat upon the throne said, ‘Behold, I make all things new.’…these words are trustworthy and true.” Revelation 21:5

Citrus Blues

Beyond the wax-like skin,

behind the rind,

beneath connective fibers,

each cell within the whole bleeds

one by one into invading atmosphere.

Dissected now,

each segment swallowed by the cavern

cries its essence

bittersweet into the void.

Peelings and pulp discarded

and undigested seeds

(food for the worms)

shall one day make a flower grow.

Copyright 2023 Paula Veloso Babadi