Obligations and Entanglements

As I wander my garden and check on my still growing tomatoes, the space where the sugar snaps grew taunts me. Why have you abandoned me? Why have you left me in such a mess? How will you be able to grow sugar snaps here next year, if you do not take care of me now?

I harvested my last sugar snaps in early June and the space where they grew sits untouched since then. By summer, I had turned my attention to cucumbers and tomatoes and peppers and basil and garlic and new fruit plants.

Now, my spring garden is overwhelmed with weeds, feral, abandoned. Soon it will be cold, and the ground will be hard. Not long after that I will plant my seeds again. Now is the time to address this space. Now is the time to prepare the ground for winter and next year’s crop. But “now” already has a lot of demands on it.

I find myself once more reviewing my obligations, prioritizing my commitments, planning my time to align with what God is calling me to do. I can’t write a blog on gardening if I do not tend to my garden.

Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him. Luke 14:29.

I yank the bean supports free from the dead sugar snaps and live grasses. I dig out the old cardboard, separate the fence from the poles and remove the timbers that border the space. Even with help, I find clearing the space of entanglements exhausting.

The old plants and growing weeds cling to the supports, the fencing, the cardboard, the timbers. I grab and pull and cut and separate. Slowly, I clear the space.

Even with the cool breeze, sweat runs into my eyes and down my back. My arms are sore and slimy and scratched. I arch my back and rotate my shoulders and wonder if ridicule might be easier.

But I have promised myself that I will grow sugar snaps next spring. To fulfill that obligation, I must rid this space of its entanglements.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a crowd of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us. Hebrews 12:1.

And if this is true in garden, it is also true in my life.

I find myself immersed in activity and overwhelmed by my obligations. Even worse, I know they are self-imposed. No one’s health or safety depends on me. I have made commitments to others and myself; set goals that I want to attain. I still find them overwhelming. And the entanglements that accompany them are exhausting. But to build a fine structure or finish the race or maintain my garden, I need to meet my obligations and rid myself of the entanglements.

This is the hard part of gardening. It can be the hard part of life and faith as well, leaving us feeling exhausted. But good news is at hand. We live in faith. When we persevere, when we act in preparation for a future we may not see, when we look forward to what God is going to do in our lives, I believe God smiles.

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Hebrews 11:1.

(Abram) believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness. Genesis 15:6.

So, I get to work, meeting my obligations and ridding my life and garden of unwanted entanglements. I till the ground and uproot the weeds. I may not see the end results while I am engrossed in the labor, but I have faith that God does.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Beautiful!

The air is damp and cool. The outstretched arm of a far-away hurricane has left droplets on my table, dew on my grass, moisture in the air. Far from the raging winds and flooding rains, my yard soaks up these precious sprinkles like the gifts they are.

The birds are noisy this morning. They have found fresh pools of water and are telling their friends. Seeds are plentiful, and light breezes make the flying easy. A mockingbird sits on my garden fence and beckons me, calling my attention to what he wants to show me.

Ripe tomatoes. On a dying plant.

This dear plant is not using her limited resources to make her leaves green and supple, or even to make her stems straight and strong. She is putting all her energy into producing fruit that will benefit others. What a beautiful picture of the Christian life!

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Philippians 2:3-4.

Selfish ambition and conceit seem ingrained in my DNA. Perhaps they are – a gift from Eve. Certainly, our culture rewards it. Perhaps mankind has always rewarded it. Success is often defined as achieving your ambitions. But what if my ambition is to serve your interests instead of my own? What does that look like? Does it look like my dying tomato plants?

We all know someone who operates in near obscurity bringing meals to the elderly, clothes to the homeless, Bibles to prisoners. We know that sweet friend that gives tirelessly and without complaint, who is always there to support others, who shies away from all recognition.

This is the example Jesus sets for us. Go the extra mile. Turn the other cheek. Repay evil with kindness. Love one another. Empty yourself and let God’s Spirit fill you. Lay down your life.

This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. John 15:12-14.

This little tomato plant is laying down her life, giving her last efforts, to produce these beautiful tomatoes, to bless me with her gifts. It is so ingrained in her to do this that we rarely credited her for this altruistic behavior. Would that the same could be said about me.

There are moments when we get to witness this beautiful behavior in others. Last week was the anniversary of 9-11. There were many such stories from that day – beautiful self-sacrifice in the face of unspeakable horror. People putting the interests of others ahead of their own interests; people laying down their lives to help others.

God has put that tiny imprint of Himself in us. With the Spirit’s help, we can encourage His imprint to grow in us until we look and act more like Him. Jesus has shown us the way. Jesus is the way.

What a beautiful morning for sharing what God is growing in my life with you. Refreshing rains, cooling temperatures, gentle breezes. Far away a storm is raging. As I enjoy this peaceful moment, I wonder if I can share this generous gift of tomatoes with someone facing strong winds and flooding waters. Perhaps with you.

Thank you, beautiful friends, for sharing your time with me.

Love in Christ, Betsy

September Tomatoes

I went out of town for a week and guess what greeted me on my return? September Tomatoes.

The plant is well into old age. Some branches are brown and wilted. Most of her neighbor plants have died already. But look! Tomatoes!

This little plant amazes me. She is still working hard to produce fruit, to share her vitality with the world, to provide for others. She has not called it quits just because some of her neighbors have. It may sound silly to be impressed by a tomato plant, but I am. More accurately, I am impressed by how God is continuing to produce fruit in her.

Do you think God is teaching us something in this?

What is considered “past our prime” is changing. And not just because I am aging! A generation or two ago, a seventy-year-old person was old. Now there are seventy- and eighty-year-olds who are very active and vibrant. They travel the world, take yoga and Pilates, publish poetry books, care for their grandkids, find romance, and volunteer extensively.

The righteous flourish like a palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the Lord; they flourish in the courts of our God. In old age they still produce fruit; they are always green and full of sap, showing that the Lord is upright; he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him. Psalm 92:12-15.

Of course, not all of us live into our seventies and eighties. Some of us are gathered to God much earlier in life. Most of my tomato plants have already died. Not because they were unrighteous. Being right with God does not guarantee us a long life, but it does promise us a life of bearing fruit for Him, an abundant life.

I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete. John 15:11.

My eyes brighten, my lips push up my cheeks, a laugh burbles from my mouth. Joy. In this beautiful, simple thing. Hope. For myself, for others, for situations that feel hopeless. It’s not too late. As long as your feet are planted in the rich soil of God’s word, as long as the life-giving water of prayer flows, as long as the Son shines, there is joy and hope and love.

God is so good.

I have a favor to ask. If you have bought my new book Garden Devotions, thank you! If you liked it, please leave a review on Amazon. This is how they decide which books to recommend to browsing shoppers. The space to leave a review of the book is a long scroll down the page, but it is there at the bottom. If you would like to order the book it is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and through the link provided in the menu at the top of this page.

This book feels like the green tomatoes on my plants. It’s never to late for God to bear new fruit in your life. The evidence in here, right before me. God plants a seed; we nurture it in His word and prayer; He produces fruit; that fruit is available to nourish others. Simple and amazing.

Thank you for joining me in the garden. I am so glad that my gardening days are not over just because it’s September.

Rejoice in the Lord always, again I will say, Rejoice. Philippians 4:4.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Peppers

September has arrived and my garden is showing its fall colors!

I see the brown of the dead and dying plants, but also the vibrant hues of the bell peppers, red and orange and yellow.

I am so grateful for these hardy plants that withstood the summer heat and are still growing in my garden. They remind me that God has a time and a season for all fruit.

I love the sugar snaps that come in the spring, encouraging me to keep the garden going. I love the new fruit emerging on the vines and stalks. I love the garlic and basil, the cucumbers and tomatoes that grow throughout the summer. And I love these peppers who transition me into autumn.

It is a beautiful day. Morning clouds have dissipated, and a clear blue sky stretches from the tops of trees to green lawns. The birds call to each other and those pesky squirrels scamper across the yard. I pull some weeds and cut some basil. The fragrant scents fill my senses. What a blessing to spend just a few minutes everyday soaking in God’s gifts in nature.

For what can be know about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. Ever since the creation of the world his eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made. Romans 1:19-20.

Nature constantly reminds me of God’s creativity and His love of beauty. So many different plants and trees and flowers and blossoms and fruits and seeds. All with their own seasons and habitats and needs. The details of a flower petal, the variety of fruits, the interconnectivity of living things – they all bear witness to a creator who far exceeds our limited capabilities. And yet this same God cares enough to give us a variety of tastes and smells and colors, perhaps just for enjoyment, perhaps also for His own.

The skies proclaim His glory but this little patch of garden in my backyard does, too. It has persevered through unseasonal heat and unusual cool. Some of it has faded, some of it has died, and some lives on, still producing, still growing, still healthy.

There are some former interests that are fading in my life. There are some that have died. But others continue, even thrive, producing new and varied fruit. I have done no needlepoint this year, but I published a book. I have yet to harvest a tomato, but I have perfected a pesto recipe. I have thriving fig and raspberry plants. My garlic was successful enough to encourage me to plant again this fall.

Now the Lord said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land I will show you.” Genesis 121:1.

God has not asked me to leave my country or my kindred, but He has led me to some new places, some new interests, some new avocations. He has shown me new things. He has grown peppers of various colors in the September of my life.

Even more, God is teaching me how to continue to grow, continue to learn, continue to produce even in the autumn of my life. He has taught me that the garden can produce even in the winter. Perhaps I will be able to as well.

What a marvelous God we have! What a blessing that He shows us His eternal power and divine nature in the things He has made, even the simple things like red and orange and yellow bell peppers.

If you missed it – I have published a book, Garden Devotions, which can be ordered through Barnes and Nobles, Amazon, or the link found in the menu at the top of this page. If you are willing, leave a review! Many thanks.

Love in Christ, Betsy