Month: March 2025

Everyday Miracles

The sugar snaps are up! I expected it to happen, even though there have been years when it didn’t. I made plans for their emergence from the ground and their upward growth, but after I plant the seeds, what happens is beyond my control.

Weather, storms, predators, toxins in the ground, so many possible dangers to the little seeds, so many forces which could prevent their growth. But here they are! Bursting from their dried-up pods through the dark soil, and into the sunlight.

I could have chosen not to plant the seeds, knowing there was a chance they wouldn’t sprout. I could look at their growth and consider it a given. (Of course they grew – no mystery here.) But I see God at work in these growing plants.

Where do they get their motivation to grow? What draws them from their shell and transforms them? What makes them reach for the sun? Did they know that such a future awaited them? Do they know even now the bountiful harvest they will one day produce?

Do we?

For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life. Ephesians 2:10.

In the darkness of the earth, these seeds surrendered their hard protective coating and let God transform them. They rooted themselves in the fertile soil and reached out beyond their cozy homes. They pushed into the wider world, braving cold temperatures, predators, and weeds.

They are becoming what God intended them to be – healthy, growing, fruit-producing plants.

Not all the seeds make this transformation. There are bald spots in the garden. Perhaps the birds stole the seeds. Perhaps the cardboard meant to suppress weeds had the unintended consequence of suppressing the seed. (Is there a lesson here?) Perhaps the sudden freeze just as they were emerging was too much for the young plant.

I could focus on the bare spots, but I will not. I rejoice in the miracle of healthy sugar snap plants. Soon they will grow and expand. Soon these little plants will grasp the supports around them and pull themselves skyward, filling my garden with healthy plants. At least I pray that will happen.

Because I can’t make it happen, just as I can’t make myself patient and loving. This transformation, this growth is a gift from God, an everyday miracle. Like the flowers on the budding trees, like the greening grass and the transforming dandelions, God is at work in our world in everyday miracles.

In nature and in us, God is at work. He is using the rain, the sunshine, the dirt, and the heat to draw us ever skyward, ever toward the sun, His Son. He is giving us what we need to grow.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new each morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.” The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul that seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. Lamentations 3:22-26.

The steadfast love of our Lord. New mercies every morning. A God who loves, saves, and provides. Sometimes it is easy to look at the bare spots. Sometimes, I doubt His transforming power. Sometimes, I take his provision for granted. But when I see these growing plants, He reminds me that He is at work in our world, creating everyday miracles.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Not Yet

All at once and very slowly. That’s how things seem to happen in my life. Suddenly it is March, and the sugar snaps seeds are in, and the trees begin to blossom. And yet, the trees stay bare. The seeds have not sprouted. My heat is still on. Lent is here, yet Easter feels far away.

Part of me struggles to grasp that this is 2025. When I was I child that sounded like some fantastical future date. Now the days just tick off like any other year. Full of tasks and to-dos and heart-rending conversations and mindless pursuits. Nick has been gone for almost six years, and yet the earth continues to spin. The trauma from last summer feels like old news but is not a year old.

My sugar snaps sit in the ground. I walk to the garden and stare at the dirt. I grab the hose and spray the soil with water. So much happens that I cannot see. So much is out of my control. So much is unknown.

I must trust that the Lord is working. He is at work in my garden, in my life, in the church, in the nation. I must plant the seeds, water them faithfully, and trust.

It’s hard to do when all I see are weeds and dirt and barren branches.

But the sun is shining. The sun shines for more minutes each day. The grass is slowly turning green, and buds have appeared on the tree branches.

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

Of course, I have seen many springs, and many trees in bloom. I have watched sugar snap seeds transform into fruit-bearing vines. I know from experience that these things will happen eventually. And this time of waiting will be forgotten, erased by the swift passage of days. But today, I find it difficult to see what the future holds.

What will happen in my garden, my life, the church, the nation? The garden tells me that what it looks like now is not what it will look like in three months or six months. My garden teaches me that there is a lot happening I cannot see.

My garden teaches me that I do not have the ultimate say over what happens. The future is in God’s hands. Today is in God’s hands. I do my part. I pray, I water, I protect, I care for my garden and anyone God places in my path. But my sugar snaps may not grow. Or they may not grow in the manner I would like them to grow. There may be other factors at work which I cannot see and cannot control.

I have a choice. I can be angry and afraid, wringing my hands and expecting the worst, or I can continue to work and trust God with the outcome.

He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? Micah 6:8.

I choose today to be grateful for the bright blue sky, the birds that fly past my window, and the gentle breeze. I’ll water my garden, love my friends and family, and pray for the church and the nation. I’ll support those who need my help and listen to their stories. I’ll open my heart and mind to what God considers just and kind. And I will trust Him with the outcome.

It feels as if things are moving very slowly. But I know that God can make things happen all at once. All at once, the sugar snap vines will grow, the trees will blossom, and Christ will rise from the grave. All at once, these days I spent unsure about the future will be erased by the passage of time and the glory of what God will bring about.

Now therefore take your stand and see this great thing that the Lord will do before your eyes. 1 Samuel 12:16.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Lenten Seeds

Dirt cakes my nails and sweat drips down my face as I toss the last of the seeds in the narrow furrow. Days of warmer temperatures bring me outside to plant the sugar snap seeds. The dark brown soil welcomes the seeds as they roll into dips and settle into tiny valleys.

Suddenly, winter is ending and spring is on her way. The robins dance in the yard and tiny green scapes sprout from my garlic bulbs. February snow and a late Easter have lulled me into thinking winter would never end. But now the blue skies hold promise. Spring is coming.

I cover the seeds with dirt and lay wire over them to keep the birds away. As soon as the seeds sprout, I will remove the protective wire, but that is weeks away. First the little seeds must sit in the dark ground and let God transform them.

This year, because Easter is so late, the planting of these seeds coincides with Lent. Somehow, the resting of the seeds in the quiet darkness seems appropriate. We think of Lent as a time to give up something, to deny ourselves, to wrestle with our personal demons. But God calls us to that every day (Luke 9:23). Perhaps Lent is better seen as a time spent apart from the world, in the wilderness, in the dark and lonely soil. Because that is where transformation takes place.

Very truly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. John 12:24-25.

Those seeds that prefer the sunshine, the company of other seeds in the packet, and the orderliness of a display rack at the garden center, those seeds will never bear fruit. Those seeds which refuse to get dirty and sit alone in darkness will never transform into healthy plants.

Perhaps that is what Jesus means with his words. It is when we can step away from our clean and orderly lives, when we can spend time away from all our pleasurable diversions, and when we can deny ourselves the comfort of the known, that God gives us a better life.

Perhaps all He wants is for me to seek His approval rather than everyone else’s. Perhaps He wants me to be transformed by His presence and not by the world around me. Perhaps the only way I can become more than a seed is by sitting alone with Him.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may discern what is the will of God – what is good and acceptable and perfect. Romans 2:12.

So, for Lent this year, I going to spend time alone with God, intentionally, daily. I’m going to die to the world around me for a set period of time and spend that time with God. I’ve said it, now I must do it.

I want to be a seed that becomes a fruit bearing vine. I want God to give me the strength to deny myself and win the battle with my demons. I want my words to betray that I spend time with Jesus. (Matthew 26:73)

Are you planting any seeds this Lent? Are you preparing for the coming Spring?

Are you willing to sit alone with God in the quiet darkness and let Him transform you?

But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. Matthew 6:6.

I would ask you to join me, but this is something you must do on your own.

Love in Christ, Betsy