To grow or not to grow

“Are you going to grow tomatoes this year?” my friend asked.

It was a simple question, kindly asked by someone who knew that I have grown vegetables for the past 30 years. Well, actually my late husband and I grew them. Am I going to grow them without him?

Am I going to do the work he used to do? Am I going to commit to the labor and effort that growing vegetables takes? Am I going to till and fence and plant and tend and harvest? Is a home-grown tomato really worth that much effort?

Because gardens, like most worthwhile endeavors, take hard work; not that I am opposed to hard work; it’s just, well, hard. Gardens take manual labor and regular tending. You must set aside space in your yard and prepare the ground. You must commit to attending to the garden and providing what it needs to thrive.

Suddenly, the question is not about growing tomatoes, but about life. Am I going to make the effort to go on without my husband? Am I going to get up every day and take care of myself and my home and my finances and the car and the yard? Am I going to be open to growing something new in my life? Am I going to trust God?

Perhaps for you the question is “Are you going join a Bible study?” “Are you taking exercise classes? “Are you planning to travel abroad?” “Are you starting any needlepoint projects?” “Are you taking cooking classes?” Perhaps, for you, the question is not can you grow vegetables without your husband but can you grow these interests while caring for your husband or your parents or your children.

Maybe not such a simple question after all.

Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him, saying, “this fellow began to build and was unable to finish.” – Luke 14: 27-30

I often battle inertia – the difficulty getting up off the couch and doing something. There are days I lose the battle. It’s comfy on the couch. And while grief seems to amplify inertia’s power over me, I battled it long before Nick was ever diagnosed. Steven Pressfield, in The War of Art, exposes this force, which he says seeks to prevent us from becoming our better selves, improving our world, and following our dreams. Victory, he says, comes by taking the first step and then the next one.

And I know that my battle with inertia is not over once the garden is started. I will battle it throughout the summer, along with predators who steal my seeds and fruit, weeds which stunt my plant’s growth; and weather which can undo what progress I have made.

I battle these in my life as well. But God has granted me a vision of fresh vegetables where only barren ground now exists. And God has promised victory.

Are the results worth the battle? Delicious home-grown tomatoes, cucumbers, and sugar snaps, Wow. A full life, a better me, Wow. Love, joy, peace, and patience, Wow. A personal relationship with the Almighty, Wow. Yep, they are worth getting off the couch. 

The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. Matthew 14:45-46

Now to take that first step. If I want a garden, I must, at some point, actually go outside and plant something. If I want to continue on in life, I must get off my comfy couch and do the tasks that need doing. If I want a personal relationship with the Creator and Master of the universe, I must at some point step outside my comfort zone and invite Him in. Such a relationship will not just happen, anymore than fully ripe tomatoes will turn up without effort in my backyard. And, like a garden, like any relationship, it takes both of us. I need God to make the plant grow and bear fruit; He needs me to put the plant in the ground and water it.

I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. John 14:5

So, yes, I am going to grow something this year, God willing. Are you?

Betsy

I hope you enjoyed reading this. Hopefully, these posts will continue through the year as I plant, tend and harvest my garden. Gardening is a wonderful metaphor for the Christian life, one that Jesus often employs. God has taught me valuable lessons through the act of gardening, about life, marriage, child rearing, myself and my Christian walk. I hope to share these fruits with you. Let me know what you think.

I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. John 15:1