This is Summer?

My husband called from work to tell me it is hailing.

Oh, Lord, please shield my already battered garden!

I laugh at the irony of this season.  I choose to grow my own food, I choose to proclaim it loudly, that I trust in the Lord's providence.... and time and time again, my efforts are mocked and brutalized... hail, cold, rain, flooding... lather, rinse, repeat.

I assume that summer will show her glorious face soon and the sun will shine warmly down on my plants and help them grow strong.  But until then, Lord, please have mercy on me and my garden.