The frost has turned the brown ground gray, but green shoots are peeking through. Spots of yellow dot the creek banks. Spring is coming.

The seeds in the packet rattle as I shake them.

Will I do this? Can I do this?

I look at my garden, still brown and gray. I can almost see the sugar snaps growing there. Can you see them? Tall and green, reaching for the sun, covered with white blossoms and dangling peas. Can you taste their crisp sweetness?

Shaking the seed packet again, I make my decision. I’m planting these seeds. It will take effort on my part to prepare the ground for a garden. It will take commitment to produce this fruit in my yard, to enable God to produce this fruit in my yard.

But I can see sugar snaps growing where there is only barren ground. I can taste their sweetness. I will do my part to make this vision a reality. I will give God the space needed to turn these seeds into plants, this barren ground into a garden.

Because while vegetables can grow anywhere, a garden is an area intentionally set aside to nurture the growth of fruit.

And I wonder if God could grow His fruit in my life if I only gave Him the space to do so.

You did not choose me, but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last … for I have chosen you out of the world. John 15:16,18.

I look at my life and see worries and frustrations and petty jealousies, worthless activities inspired by a desire to impress others. Could kindness and patience and self-control grow here? Could God grow those things in my life?

Picking up my Bible, I make my decision. I’m planting His seeds. It may well take effort on my part to prepare my life for His presence. It will take commitment to enable God to produce this fruit in my life. But the vison of His love, His peace, His joy growing in my life is just too wonderful to deny.

I want God to turn the barren and frosty ground of my life into a verdant garden bearing sweet fruit. I can almost see me joyful and loving, reaching for the Son. I can almost taste the sweetness. Can you?

Where to start?

I look at my garden, forlorn in the back yard, resting from winter. There is space there waiting for sugar snap seeds. There is space in my life waiting for God’s word.

In the morning, while it was still very dark, He (Jesus) got up and went out to a deserted place, and there He prayed. Mark 1:35.

One year, our ministers challenged the congregation to read the entire Bible in 90 days, the Big Read. The suggested reading path would take 30 to 45 minutes a day, out of 24 hours; the equivalent of an episode of Ozark or Cupcake Wars. Could I spare the time?

What are the things that crowd my day, your day? Are you caring for your kids? Your parents? Your spouse? Yourself? Is your work schedule demanding? What are your priorities? That’s really what it comes down to – what is important to you, what is important to me. 

As for me and my household, we will worship the Lord. Joshua 24:15b.

I can dedicate space in my yard for the sugar snaps. I can dedicate time in my day for Bible study, prayer, and praise. And I am so excited about the expected results!I can almost taste the sugar snaps. Already a smile covers my face, and His warmth is melting the frost.

Betsy

The recent rain had filled my creek with water, awakening the dormant fish eggs hiding beneath the rocks. Enticed by the new life, the heron came to visit. Oblivious to me, the majestic bird concentrated on the water in the creek, looking for a snack sized fish. I hope she found one. I did not have the patience she showed as she stood for long minutes. Watching and waiting. At the beach, when I have fewer tasks at hand, I have seen them stand for hours on the beach waiting for the sunning fisherman to throw a fish back.

I remember when I saw my first heron, back in a hidden cove on the lake. I thought something had escaped from Jurassic Park. When I see them in numbers large enough to flock, my heart thanks God for bringing these graceful and impressive birds back from the brink of extinction.

What a gift to see them in my yard! What a gift to see the hawks and eagles who have returned to our area. What a gift to see the bluebirds and blue jays and cardinals and chickadees and robins who never left. What a gift to hear the little sparrows chattering away and the mockingbirds singing medleys of their favorite tunes.

By the streams the birds of the air have their habitation; they sing among the branches, Psalm 104:12.

Sometimes I stand in wonder at the wildlife that surrounds me. This is the 21^st century. We have computers and cell phones and wifi and AI. But in my yard, I am surrounded by birds and bunnies and squirrels and chipmunks. Racoons and possums and skunks outnumber the people living on my street. Deer and coyote wander through my yard, and foxes have raised their kits here. I know there are mice and moles and voles and a million insects in my yard. I have even seen an armadillo amble across my yard, nose to the ground.

Why do I think this is my yard?

Has not God created every one of these creatures as surely as He has created me? Has He not given this earth, this patch of green, for them to live on as surely as He has given it to me? Does He not care for them as He cares for me?

Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Matthew6:29.

These animals around me call my yard their home. I have grown so used to them being here that I rarely stop to greet them or acknowledge their presence. Only when something unusual happens do I stop and stand in awe, if I happen to be looking and see it.

When the hawk swooped down on the squirrel, when the young bunny approached my docile old cat, when the duck made a nest in my flower bed, when the mother fox barked at me as I neared her hidden kits. Then I stop and give thanks for the vibrant community of animals living in my yard.

Perhaps this yard is more theirs than mine. My efforts run more toward limiting their possession of the space than encouraging it. I feel sometimes as if I am carving out a space for myself in their yard. I know that we as humans need to be good stewards of the land and be kind to all living creatures, but sometimes it feels egotistical to think that these animals in my yard are in any way dependent on me. Sometimes it feels just the opposite. I am amazed at what they teach me. Look at all the different species of birds and mammals and insects that call my yard home! Look how well they share the space, how peacefully they (usually) interact.

I hope you get to go outside today and stand in awe of God’s creation, both plant and animal. The beauty, the variety, the differing functions and personalities, the amazing world that lives in a yard, that surrounds us. What an awesome world; what an awesome God!

Betsy

While some of you may be celebrating this evening with dinner and flowers, I plan to have ashes smeared on my forehead. As a widow, Valentines Day has lost its appeal, but Lent still calls out to me.

My parents observed Lent, so I grew up observing it. We weren’t Catholic, but I sense they recognized their and my need for self-discipline. What were we leaning on, what had we become dependent on, what were we using to fill the holes only God could fill? What had become a habit? If I could loosen its control on me for 40 days, 47 if you count Sundays, then wouldn’t that be a good thing?

I would give up chocolate, or alcohol, or red meat. Sometimes I’d give up computer games. When the urge came upon me to succumb to temptation, I would pray and distract myself with reading the Bible or devotional books. Instead of making me feel holier, it made me twitchy and restless. How dependent I was, and often still are, on these earthly pleasures!

Lent commemorates the period after Jesus’ baptism when the Spirit led him into the wilderness to fast for 40 days. If that were not enough, satan came to tempt Him at the end. All that fasting was training Jesus, strengthening Him to be able to resist satan’s temptations. If Jesus needed to be trained to resist temptation by fasting, don’t I?

I need training to resist temptation. I need practice. I need to put those muscles to work.

Now, disciple always seems painful rather than pleasant at the time, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. Hebrews 12:11

Last year I observed the Jewish Sabbath for Lent, and I am going to do that again. I’m not going to follow all the Hasidic regulations, but I am going to “do no work” and “keep it holy.” (Exodus 31:12-17)

I have found that training my brain to think only thoughts about God and His glory is even more challenging than not eating chocolate. When I clear my mind of thoughts not related to God, sometimes it looks like a barren field, like my garden this time of year. There’s not much left growing there. What a sad and sobering revelation. Am I prepared to spend eternity in the presence of God if I can’t spend an entire day there?

Twitchy and restless.

God is showing me the gaps in my training, my need for discipline, the distance I need to travel to truly be His disciple.

Then he said to them all, “If any of you want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” Luke 9:23.

I think I want to be a disciple of Jesus. I think I follow Him. I know I believe, but even the demons believe (James 2:19). Could I really take up a cross if even a day of rest seems a burden? I need to practice this art of resisting temptation. I need to practice giving up chocolate and alcohol and red meat so perhaps I will be strong enough to give up divisiveness and quarrelling and self-righteousness.

I cannot resist these temptations on my own. I get all twitchy and restless. Only God and His Spirit can give me the strength to abstain from worldly distractions and unholy thoughts.

Submit yourselves to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Draw near to God and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double minded. James 4:7-8.

I don’t want to be double minded. I want to have the mind of Christ (I Cor. 2:16). I want to submit my self to God, cleanse my hands, purify my heart, and draw near to God.

I may be losing chocolate, computer games, and Saturday TV, but look what I am gaining!

Happy Lent!

Betsy

For 30 plus years I have taken down my fencing every fall and let my garden go to grass. In the spring, I tilled the ground and put the fence back up. It was physically demanding work, with rich lessons about preparing the ground for seeds.

Encouraged by new-found knowledge, I am trying a no-till garden this year. I left the fence up; I did not let the garden go to grass. This seems much easier; I am wondering if it is better.

Sometimes God leads us to do things the roundabout, less direct way, the hard way.

When Pharoah let the people go, God did not lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, although that was nearer; for God thought, “if the people face war, they may change their minds and return to Egypt.” So God led the people by the roundabout way of the wilderness toward the Red Sea. Exodus 13:7-8.

Have you ever felt this? Other people seem to have taken a direct path to their destination, and you are over here, wandering around in the wilderness. The path is hard to see, there are hidden rocks and shifting sands, each step seems a struggle. Why am I over here when there is a paved road over there?

Did God really lead me on this path, or have I gone astray?

How difficult and confusing faith can be sometimes. So many different voices, so much advice, it’s challenging to know who to listen to, even when I am trying to listen to God alone. Doubt creeps in.

There is a well-worn path over there that is easy to travel. It feels rather stupid to be over here trudging through brush and briars just because I sense this is where God wants me to be.

Enter though the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few that find it. Matthew 7:13-14.

That well worn path may contain dangers that we can’t see. God does not want us to return to Egypt, to return to slavery, to return to sinful behavior, to return to a life without Him. If we must get off the well-worn path and wander through the wilderness to strengthen our relationship with Him, to learn important lessons about faith and trust, then that is the path that leads to life.

My faith tells me that it is God leading me on this roundabout path through the wilderness. He has things to teach me, things I need to learn. He wants to protect me from enemies and battles until He has prepared me to face them. He does not want me to face battles unprepared and change my mind about following Him.

Can you see it, dear friend? What looks like wandering around in the wilderness is precious time learning to trust God. What lessons He teaches when the work is hard, and the road is challenging. God leads us on the roundabout way and the hard road because there we can learn to lean on Him, His word, His Spirit. There we learn, there we grow, there is life.

The lessons I have learned over the past thirty years from tilling my garden are dear to me. I have learned about ripping deeply held weeds out of my life, turning up hidden rocks and ridding myself of them, breaking up the hard places in my life to allow for God’s word to take root in my life.

But this year, I am trying a no-till garden. It’s an easier path. Because, when we are ready, God leads us out of the wilderness and into the promised land. When we are ready, God brings us to the narrow gate and directs us to enter.

If I am not ready, if my garden is still too weed-ridden to bypass tilling, then I will get out the tiller and stay on the hard path until the yard is ready, until I am ready.

God will lead me.

Betsy