Fruit!

Like green candy dangling from the vine, the sugar snaps are ready to pick. Crisp and crunchy and sweet. What a joy to have this harvest while my other plants are still in their infancy.

This fruit is not a surprise. I planted and cared for these vines precisely for this purpose. But my plans and effort do not always yield fruit. There have been years when the seeds didn’t sprout, years when the plants struggled to produce, years when I have not been here to harvest the peas.

The lack of fruit in the past makes these peas taste even sweeter.

Like the first morning I woke up looking forward to the day ahead. It was more than a year after Nick had died. Covid was in full swing; the world was depressed, and I was just one more sad soul. I didn’t plant sugar snaps that year. I didn’t plant anything. But it was a gorgeous sunny day, and I was going to spend it at the lake, on a boat, by myself. And I was looking forward to it.

The warm sun, the gentle breeze, the chirping birds, and the ripples of water against the shore were a feast for the senses, a gift from God that had nothing to do with the presence or absence of others.

We try, in this life. We try to be faithful, we try to be good, we try to be kind and loving. We try to be successful, or wealthy, or popular. We try to be good parents and good friends. We plant seeds and hope that they will grow. We water and feed and support. And, sometimes, we think we have accomplished what we set out to do. Other times, the seeds don’t sprout, we aren’t fruitful, or we can’t enjoy our success when it comes.

And then God reminds us that He, and He alone, is the giver of all good things.

Do not say to yourself. “My power and the might of my own hand have gotten me this wealth.” But remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you power to get wealth. Deuteronomy 8:17-18.

Occasionally, someone will taste one of my sugar snaps and want to grow their own. This is the best reward of all. You too can have this fruit in your life. It will take a little effort on your part, but it is so worth it. You will have failures and unproductive times, but when that fruit shows up, it is wonderful.

I pray the Holy Spirit bears such fruit in my life that others desire it and ask me how to grow it!

In your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord. Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence. Keep your conscience clear, so that, when you are maligned, those who abuse you for your good conduct in Christ may be put to shame. 1 Peter 3:15-17.

I crunch on another sugar snap and let the sweetness fill my senses. God is so good in His gifts to the world. Sunshine, water, fruit, hope, joy, peace, and something to look forward to.

I hope you step outside today, soak in the sunshine and breeze, listen to the birds and skittering animals, and sense God’s presence and love. I pray you take His seeds, plant them in your life, and bear sweet fruit to share with the world.

You can’t do it on your own. Only God can do it and only when you let Him. A great harvest awaits and the fruit is sweet.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Community

I have sugar snaps! The delicate white flowers have birthed tiny green beans which I will soon pick and eat. The temptation is to pick them immediately, but I need to wait. The fruit will be ready soon. My mouth waters in anticipation.

These sweet peas thrive when planted close to each other. When their tendrils can’t reach the supports, they cling to their neighbors who can reach the metal rungs. Together, they reach upward and capture the sunlight. I have had occasions when a single plant has grown apart from the others and it doesn’t fare as well. Maybe it has to do with pollination, but I don’t know. Pollination is not an area of gardening that I understand or consider much. I only know that my sugar snaps love to be in community.

And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching. Hebrews 10:24-25.

And even as I am grateful for this fruit grown in community, I am thankful for the community around me that encourages the growth of fruit in me and provokes me to love and good deeds. I am thankful for an environment where I can openly discuss my faith, where the biggest risk I face is rolled eyes.

For years now, I have been praying for Christians persecuted for their faith. This past week I have been praying for people in the Maldives, an island nation where Christianity is forbidden. For the ones who come to faith in Christ, they will lose their jobs, their homes, and their families. They are imprisoned and often killed. In the Bible Belt, we talk about Jesus over beers on a Friday night and in our casual conversations at the grocery store. There are Bible studies and prayer gathering just about every day of the week.

What must it feel like to be the only person you know who believes that Jesus was God-made-man who came to save us from death and sin and reconcile us to the Father? Would I doubt my sanity? My belief would almost have to have come from a personal revelation since there are no Bibles or pastors or Christian homes and schools. Without the community to provoke me would I still feel the need to love those who persecute me? Would I still be able to grow and bear fruit?

There are plants that grow in sulfur-soaked waters at the bottom of the ocean. There are plants that grow in hot and waterless wastelands. There is faith that is born not because the environment is friendly, but because God is real and active in the world.

We can’t go to these places to encourage these lone believers, but we can pray that God will protect them and care for them and give them hope and love. As an aside, faithful men and women are always trying to infiltrate these areas of open hostility and share the love of God, not just with their persecuted brethren but with those who persecute as well. For more information, contact Voice of the Martyrs at www.persecution.com.

Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; those who are being tortured as though you yourselves were being tortured. Hebrews 13:3.

Occasionally, I sense God talking to me, guiding me through His Spirit. I sometimes doubt my sanity when it happens. Voices in my head and all that. But God is real and active in the world. He can speak to people with such power that they are willing to give up everything, their homes, their families, their jobs, even their lives, to follow Jesus. What would I give up to follow Him?

Today, I thank the Lord that I, like my sugar snaps, live in a community which encourages my growth, pulls me ever upward, and provokes me to produce fruit. If the fruit is not evident today, it will be soon. My mouth waters in anticipation.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Bugs

I planted the bulk of my summer garden this past week. Tomatoes and peppers and basil and oregano. Did someone say pasta sauce?

I had thought I would talk about the gift of plants brought to this healthy state by others with more time and expertise. I’m taking a class on how the church arrived at what is now considered orthodox belief. It makes me grateful that hundreds of theologians could spend hundreds of years in prayer and contemplation to help us make sense of the incarnation of Christ.

But the bugs distract me.

Little bees and larger wasps, ants and worms and slugs, flat stink bugs, and little orange ladybugs. The garden is full of them. The yard is full of them. The earth is full of them. I am told most of them, maybe even all of them, have a critical purpose in keeping our ecosystem alive and well, so I am fine to coexist with them, from a distance. I don’t want to touch them. I doubt they want me to touch them either.

Each of these little creatures has unique characteristics which enable them to do the tasks assigned to them. They are just living their little lives and in doing so keep the world balanced. Like the sea slugs that create beautiful shells they never see, built not for beauty but for protection, these bugs probably have no idea how vital their daily activities are.

A good garden needs worms. A healthy forest needs caterpillars that eat leaves and slugs that digest bark. Without those nasty flies, animals that die in the woods would litter the ground. But these creatures are just living their life, eating, bearing young, dying.

Their lives are short and seemingly insignificant. Who of us has not killed an ant or a cockroach? And yet, if there were no ants and no cockroaches, what would the world look like? We have learned what can happen when the bees and butterflies aren’t around to pollinate. I hesitate to think where we would be without those bugs that eat nasty stuff.

And God created them all and called it good.

I imagine that in the eyes of an immortal God, our lives might be short and seemingly insignificant. After all, He can create stars and oceans and mountains with a word. But God created us in such a way that each and everyone of us is important to the balance of the world, and to Him.

Never underestimate what God can do through one faithful person. Moses’s friends kept his arms lifted until the enemy was destroyed. (Exodus 17:8-13). Balaam refused to curse the Israelites as the king ordered (Numbers 22). Boaz was just overseeing the harvest of his crop when he met Ruth (Ruth 2). Mary shared her crazy story with the disciples (Luke 24:10).

What little thing is God encouraging you to do today? It may seem like nothing, like a worm making its way through the dirt, a caterpillar eating a leave, or a bee finding its favorite flower. You may be helping keep the world balanced. You may be planting a mustard seed. You may be getting rid of some nasty stuff. You have a purpose and the world needs you to fulfill that purpose.

Maybe these little bugs and our little lives are every bit as important as theology crafted aver hundreds of years. Maybe they are more important in the eyes of God.

Ask God how He wants you to spend your day today. You may admire a flower, change a diaper, or help a friend and thereby play a vital role in the universe.

God saw everything that he had made, and indeed it was very good. Genesis 1:31.

Love in Christ, Betsy

A Task Not Done

The man who mows my yard informed me that his truck broke down. He had to wait on parts and for the repairs to be made. Meanwhile, my yard continued to grow.

I had invited some ladies to my house and as the day drew nearer, my anxiety over my yard grew. All the yards around mine were cropped short and looked loved and attended. My yard looked abandoned, unloved.

More than a poor reflection on the man who mows my yard, my knee-high grasses and flowering weeds were a poor reflection on me. I had failed in keeping my yard up to suburban expectations. We can argue about the validity of such expectations, but my un-mowed yard was an embarrassment to me and, I am sure, an embarrassment to my neighbors.

My guests might think that I didn’t care about my yard, that I didn’t value this property. My neighbors probably thought I was an absent landowner. They would doubt my wisdom in not hiring someone else to mow my yard. All because this task has not been done.

What tasks has God given me that I have been remiss in completing?

God calls me to welcome the stranger (Hebrews 13:2), feed the hungry (Matthew 25:35), and love my neighbor (Mark 12:31). When I fail at these tasks, it is not only a bad reflection on me, but also a bad reflection on God.

Does God not care about the world, about the hungry? Is He absent from this world? Why has He not eliminated all the unkind people from His church?

But, of course, the problem is not God. The problem is us. The problem is me. I call myself a Christian, but I have not always loved justice or walked humbly (Micah 6:8). I have not always offered food and drink to those in need (Matthew 25:42). I have not always cared for the foreigners living among us (Leviticus 19:33-34). What a poor reflection I am of the love of God.

I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. Ephesians 4:1-3

Now that would be a yard that would make God proud.

Instead, I am making excuses for why I don’t live that way, why I don’t do what God has asked me to do, what I have told God I will do. Love God with all my heart and soul. Love my neighbor. Love my enemies. Forgive anyone who wrongs me. Turn away from sin. Trust in God’s provision for the day. Am I letting a broken-down truck keep me from fulfilling His desires?

As I was debating how long I would wait before I gave up on my mower and found someone else to tend my yard, he called to say his truck was fixed. He came over just a few minutes before my guests arrived. I thanked him and encouraged him to come more regularly in the future. He thanked me for waiting, for being patient with him. I feel like I have had these conversations with God, where I apologized for my actions, or lack of actions, and thanked Him for His patience. God, in turn, welcomed me, and encouraged me to come to Him more often.

I don’t want to be the servant left in charge of the master’s affairs who spends his time carousing and unkind. I want to be the servant the master finds hard at work when he returns (Matthew 24:45-51). I want to be the one who welcomes the stranger and feeds the hungry, who helps make this world a beautiful and loving place.

I want my actions to reflect well on the name of Christ. Don’t you?

In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to God in heaven. Matthew 5:16.

Love in Christ, Betsy

A Kink in the Hose

The morning is quiet. Only the birds greet my presence in the yard, and their conversations most likely are not about me. A gentle breeze barely moves the leaves on my greening trees and hedges. A layer of clouds mutes the rising sun, but I do not expect rain. It hasn’t rained for days, and warmer-than-average temperatures have led me to the garden while it is still early.

My plants need water.

So, while the birds are still louder than the sound of cars on the nearby road, I take down the hose and water.

As I drag the hose along the garden, watering the garlic, the non-emergent beets, the raspberry and fig, the flow of water slows until finally, right as I am at my sugar snaps, the water stops completely.

I do not panic or fret. The world is not out of water. The city has not cut off my water supply. An angry God has not thwarted my plans. I look back along my garden and see where the hose has folded over on itself, kinked. The knot is not allowing the ever-present water to flow.

I shake the hose because sometimes the problem is fixed that easily. But the kink is too tight, the tangle too pressed for such an easy fix. I need to put down my nozzle and seek out the problem. I walk to the knot and gently unkink the hose, laying it in a line along the yard, allowing the water to flow freely once again.

Only then do I return to the spray nozzle, lift the hose, and send the life-giving water to the sugar snaps.

So, when you are offering your gift at the altar. If you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister. And then come and offer your gift. Matthew 5:23-24

Get the kink out and then the water will flow.

I often don’t think of prayer that way. Sometimes, I talk; He does what He wants. Perhaps I should think of prayer in the same way I think about watering my garden. Life-giving water is available. It can flow through me to encourage the world, or it can be bottled up and clogged by my selfish thoughts and actions. I can twist myself into knots, I can let relationships remain broken, I can hold onto resentments. I can refuse to make amends when I have offended someone. I can block the flow of water.

So often, when the water ceases to flow, when I no longer sense the presence of God, I begin to panic and fret. God may not be real. God is angry with me and has turned away from me. God is refusing to supply His life-giving presence.

Perhaps I need to set down my spray nozzle, leave my offering on the altar, seek out the problem, and rectify it. Am I letting a particular sin knot my life? Does my brother or sister have something against me? Has a habit or thought twisted my relationship with God?

You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, in order to spend what you get on your pleasures. James 4:3

God wants to free us from the kinks that knot our lives. Abundant life awaits when the water flows freely, abundant growth, abundant fruit. So, if the water is not flowing today, I will take a moment and ask God to remind me what my brother has against me, to show me the knot in my life. With God’s help, I will unkink the hose and let the water flow freely once again.

Love in Christ, Betsy

The Importance of Water

It rained! Praise the Lord! And the rain stopped for Easter! God is so good!

Silly, letting weather affect my mood so, but I am grateful for the rain – and for the sun.

March was incredibly dry for Middle Tennessee. In a month when heavy rain often causes my creeks to overflow, this year, the third month brought little rain. I found myself carrying pitchers of water for my new trees and watering the garden like it was June.

Plants must have water.

As tempting as it is to fill my mornings with other things, if I don’t include time for watering my plants, they will suffer limited growth and limited fruit. It may take 5, 10, or 20 minutes, but I need to carve out the time to do this. Because not watering my plants may lead to no growth and no fruit.

I am grateful when the rain falls from the sky and relieves me of the obligation to water the garden. Rain is so much more beautiful and natural. But letting the environment, or the weather, determine the success of my garden is not wise. Letting the environment and my daily life determine my relationship with God is not wise either.

For my own growth and well-being, to have any chance of bearing the Spirit’s fruit, I need to spend time in prayer. When prayer doesn’t spring naturally from the rain or sunshine of daily life, I need to make the time to spend time with God. I need to carve out 5, 10, 20 minutes to be alone with God and water my soul with prayer and scripture.

There was a time when I rejected the idea of such a structured prayer time. Prayer shouldn’t be an obligation. I should come to the Lord when praise or despair leads me to Him. My prayer should spring spontaneously from my heart. Wasn’t that the problem with the Pharisees? They had made faith an obligation rather than a heartfelt choice.

But the garden has taught me that as beautiful as spontaneous rain falling from the heavens is, sometimes I need to get out my hose and water.

Sometimes the sunny dry weather we all enjoy can limit growth in my garden. The plants need water and I need prayer. If this does not happen spontaneously, I need to make it happen. Otherwise, I may become stagnate and begin to wilt. Otherwise, I may fail to grow, fail to bear His fruit. All for lack of water, all for lack of prayer.

The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you will be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. Isaiah 58:11.

I encourage you to water your soul today. If God is not forcing you to your knees in praise or despair, take 5, 10, or 20 minutes to get there on your own.

And the God who sees you and hears your prayers will reward you with His presence, His love, and His fruit.

Praise the Lord. He is risen. He is risen indeed.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Something to Cling to

The forecasted rain has yet to arrive, so I head to the garden to water my emerging plants. The garlic thrives, the beets have yet to emerge, but this morning I am drawn to the sugar snaps. Their fragile tendrils reach into the air in search of something solid. Once found, they wrap themselves around the bars of the supports and hold on as if their life depends on it. Once secure on one rung, the plants grow ever upward.

This is Holy Week. What are you clinging to?

Easter traditions of a meal with family? New Spring clothes to herald warmer weather? The laughter of little children discovering eggs filled with treats? What does Easter mean to you?

The Church offers many ways to observe Holy week – The waving of branches and singing of Hosanna; Holy communion in remembrance of the last supper, Passion plays and the stripping of the church, gatherings in the garden, sunrise services, and exuberant Easter celebrations. The known world was changed forever by the actions of this small group of people in a remote backwater. Because they clung to the eternal support shown to them on Easter morning. Jesus the Christ rose from the dead.

There are lots of big words and complex theologies about the why and the how, about who Jesus was and is, about God’s nature and divine will and the Word. We want to understand that which is so much more complicated and complex and powerful than we are. But perhaps faith is best expressed in a story.

The story of a man who claimed to be the Son of God and was put to death for it. And on the third day, on that non-descript Sunday morning, he rose from the dead, proving that his claims were true.

That is what we can cling to. God did something amazing, unbelievable even. But it happened.

For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with he scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, although some have died. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. 1 Corinthians 15:3-7.

Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

We are about to commemorate the beauty of the last supper, Jesus’ obedience in Gethsemane, the horrors of the crucifixion, the despair at his death. It can be tempting to live in that space, to cling to his suffering and his humanity. When we are suffering, it helps to know he suffered as well, even more so than we suffer now. We remember him washing Judas’ feet, dining with him, offering him bread and wine, and know he offers this to us sinners as well.

We can absorb the horrors of Holy Week because we cling to the truth of Easter Sunday.

The wind has been gusty for days now. An outdoor picnic led to plates blown off the table and toys blown across the yard. We were clipping the tablecloth to the table and weighting the boxes of egg dye.

The sugar snaps were unaffected by the wind gusts. They held firm, clinging to the truth of the trellises offered to them.

This is Holy Week. What are you clinging to?

Love in Christ, Betsy

Good Gifts

The sugar snaps are up, the grass is green, and all the fallen limbs have been removed. Chilly mornings lead to warm afternoons, and Spring is in the air. While the changing weather and blooming trees wreak havoc on my sinuses and force me to keep tissues handy, I love this time of year.

Spring is as if God is rewarding me for surviving freezing rains and arctic blasts and the barren landscape. I did not give up hope. I planted seeds in anticipation of warmer weather. The time for sleeping is over – wake little bunny! (One of my granddaughter’s favorite songs.)

Now new plants dot my yard and my garden like Easter eggs waiting to be discovered. Will they grow? What will they look like? How will they taste? Like Jesus’ followers in this passion week, I know change is coming. Something marvelous is about to happen, but it may not be what I thought it would be. It may not even look all that marvelous at first. I have never planted beets or rhubarb before. I may not even recognize the leaves when they break through the ground and begin to grow.

There are times the unknown scares me. I will research what rhubarb and beet plants look like, but that is different from seeing them. Jesus had told his disciples repeatedly what awaited him in Jerusalem, but they still found themselves unprepared and afraid. Not until they saw His risen person could they rejoice in the amazing gift God had given them, given us. But this week, Holy Week, we watch in fear and hope for what God is doing in our midst.

My garden is a pale comparison, a hazy glimpse into God’s love of surprising us with wonderful gifts. Each seed, each root is like an easter egg waiting to be found and opened, hiding its secret gift for me to find.

If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him! Matthew 7:11.

I know these emerging plants are good gifts given by God. Their healthy green leaves face the sun; their tendrils reach for the trellises set around them. They seem joyful, eager to get on with growing taller and bearing fruit. They are growing in fluctuating temperatures and windy days. They are growing in the sure knowledge that they are becoming what God intended them to be – bearers of delicious sugar snaps.

Can I say the same?

Holy Week brings all our emotions into play. Praise and adoration, fear and uncertainty, sorrow and despair, disbelief and amazement, joy and hope. A whirlwind climaxing in the resurrection of Jesus proving Him to be the Son of God, the Son of Man, the Christ. What an amazing gift hidden for those of us who believe, our Savior, the most wonderful gift of all.

These sugar snaps, the greening grass, the warmer temperatures, these are all gifts from a generous and loving God. The encouragement I take from these little plants is a gift as well, as is the anticipation of discovering new plants and new recipes. I suspect He has good gifts in store for you as well. They may be hidden in plastic eggs, scattered across the landscape for us to find. We may not know the gift until we open the egg, plant the seed, try the new thing. We may not know the gift until we have passed through fear, uncertainty, sorrow, or despair. But God gives us good gifts. Keep looking.

Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Gray and Chilly

In the warm weather that brightened our spirits last week, my sugar snaps pushed through the soil and rejoiced with me. But Sunday, I covered them with the protective gauze that keeps them warm and lets in sunlight. A forty degree drop in temperatures would challenge these young plants. I would do what I could to lessen the shock.

This is what March is all about in Tennessee. 75 degrees one day, 35 degrees the next. I would like to say that such weather changes don’t affect me. Unlike my sugar snaps, I live in a climate-controlled space with many resources to protect me from the wintery weather. But the truth is this gray and chilly day has me feeling, well, gray and chilly.

Intellectually I know that such feelings can only affect me if I let them. I am not a sugar snap plant blown by the wind and left to the elements. In my core, I am a child of God, beloved and adopted, chosen to live in a royal priesthood. But today, I am a whiney old widow whose joints hurt.

Usually, when I am feeling gray like this, I wander outside and listen to the creek and the birds. I feel the wind and the sun on my face and stick my hands in the dark, wet soil. But it’s 35 degrees outside and I want to stay inside.

Because I lost three trees to the ice storm in January, I decided to plant two new ones. Not hackberries like the ones I lost, but fig trees. I have a dwarf fig in my garden, but I am planting the not-dwarf kind of fig tree in my yard. They arrived Saturday when it was warm. The temptation was to plant them right away, but I am observing Saturday sabbath for Lent, so I let them sit inside.

Today, I am grateful that these young plants are not exposed to the chilly weather yet. I sense a little providence in their protection. And today, their healthy green leaves and promises of future beauty, shade, and fruit are lifting my spirits.

Even when it is gray and chilly, even when my emotions urge me to curl up on the couch, a young plant reminds me of what opportunities lie ahead – opportunities for warmth, for growth, for bearing fruit. No matter my mood, God gives me the opportunity to care for others, to exhibit joy and love, and to bear fruit for His Kingdom.

It may not look like much right now, but these sugar snaps will grow tall and these small fig plants will become trees. The chill will pass; the sun will burst through the clouds and warm the ground. A little providence and faith will see me through the gray days into His light.

And not only that but we can also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. Romans 5:3-5.

Warmer days are ahead.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Oops!

The garlic is up! I have already cut the scapes once, but I will cut them a few more times before I let them grow unbothered.

The thick green leaves encourage me that there are hearty bulbs below the surface. This especially encourages me because my garlic crop was a failure last year. Not one sprouted. I didn’t want to write about it because who wants to broadcast their failure? Besides, I wasn’t sure what the problem was.

Was there too much water? Had the cardboard poisoned the soil? Had some underground critter eaten them? The options for blame were plentiful.

My previous year’s crop had been successful. When last year’s bulbs came in, I planted them just as I remembered planting them the year before, being careful to always plant the bulbs point down as I remembered doing it the year before. Spacing them out, covering them with dirt, and watering frugally.

That’s the problem with memory. This year, I read the instructions again and watched the video on garlic planting. Perhaps I had done something wrong. Indeed. Garlic bulbs are always to be planted point up. And I had so carefully planted them point down. Poor bulbs! Breaking from their shells to find only darkness and dirt instead of the sunlight they craved.

Do not be wise in your own eyes: fear the Lord and turn away from evil. Proverbs 3:7.

Less than a minute looking at the video with all the bulbs point up and I saw the error in my ways. I had trusted in myself, been wise in my own eyes. I wonder where else this is happening.

How often am I confident that I know what to do, and how often is that in error? Sometimes the results are not as clear cut as no garlic harvest. Like the Pharisees and Sadducees and scribes, I love to study scripture and contemplate theology. But their confidence in their own wisdom made them unable to imagine that God was doing something wonderful in their midst. Jesus broke the Sabbath laws. Jesus touched lepers, ate with sinners, talked to Samaritans. They knew this was wrong.

Is it possible that in my self confidence I have “misremembered” what the scriptures teach? Secure in my understanding, have I judged as right something that is wrong, or judged as wrong something God is using to further His kingdom? Have I been confident in planting my bulbs upside down and then been surprised they didn’t grow?

There is hope. I returned to the basic instructions, those instructions I thought I knew but didn’t. I looked at the picture and could see where I was wrong. Prayer, Spirit-led Bible study, conversations with those whose gardens are full of fruit, all of these can enlighten me to the error of my thinking. And I need to be humble enough to admit I was wrong, brave enough to admit my failure.

Because when the life I am living isn’t producing a harvest of the Spirit’s fruit, I need to examine what the problem is. It may be as simple as pointing the bulbs in the right direction – toward the sun, toward the Son.

Jesus said to them (the Sadducees), “Is this not the reason you are wrong, that you know neither the scriptures nor the power of God?” Mark 12:24

Love in Christ, Betsy