Category: Autumn

When God bears fruit in our lives

Garden Shoes

I first posted this in 2023. Couldn’t get it off my mind, so I am starting October with a first-ever repeat!

They sit by the back door expectantly, waiting for me to slip them on. Worn out, worn in, scuffed and muddy and comfortable, these are my garden shoes.

I slip them on before I head to the garden. The yard, covered in dew, strewn with grass clippings, muddy from the recent rains, and riddled with thorny plants and industrious bees, can be a messy place. Inside my shoes, my feet are dry and clean and safe.

Without these shoes, dedicated to this less than glamorous role in life, either my feet would be in peril, or my fancier shoes would be.

Their appearance in no way diminishes their importance, quite the opposite. It is their worn out, worn in, scruffy, muddy, comfortable countenance that gives them value, makes them perfect for the role of garden shoe.

But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. 2 Corinthians 12:24-25.

Has God assigned you a less than glamorous role in life? Are you worn out, scruffy, and covered in yard debris? Do you feel like an “inferior member?” Haven’t we all felt that way at some point?

Maybe your infant has just thrown up on your one clean shirt, or your mom has wandered down the street in her pajamas looking for the dog that died three years ago. Maybe the dishes have piled up in the sink and toilet backed up in the bathroom. Maybe your boss has trashed your work and told you to start again, again. Maybe your body has failed you, leaving only wishes with no option of action.

You have a very crucial role in the kingdom of God. You are every bit as much a part of God’s garden as the ministers and the missionaries.

In a large house, there are utensils not only of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay, some for special use, some for ordinary. 2 Timothy 2:20.

And all are valuable. Could you imagine using your silver goblet to measure flour? The silver goblet may be shiny and precious and placed where all can see, but the plastic measuring cup far more useful, more functional, more necessary, and more important to daily life.

I wouldn’t wear my garden shoes to a ladies’ luncheon, but I depend on them.

And Jesus tells us that God values the less glamorous servants highly.

Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all. Mark 9:35. (Also Matthew 20:26, Luke 22:26.)

Maybe in the tables-turned, topsy-turvy Kingdom of Heaven, God will give my garden shoes the place of honor.

Maybe in the tables-turned, topsy-turvy kingdom of Heaven, God will give the parent, the caregiver, the housekeeper, the worker, and the invalid seats of honor.

So the last will be first, and the first will be last. Matthew 20:16. (Also Matthew 19:30.)

So, if you are feeling like a worn-out pair of garden shoes today, take heart. If we are following Jesus, He will give us the work He needs us to do, glamorous or not. His Spirit within us will make us “dedicated and useful to the owner of the house, ready for every good work.” (2 Timothy 2:21.)

My garden shoes wait patiently for me to slip them on. Just a little walk out to the garden, around and through it, then back inside. Job done; they rest. How happy these shoes make me, doing their little job so well. I do not see their age, their misshapen body, their dirty exterior covered in yard debris; I see their faithful, useful, service.

Well done, good and faithful servant, You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master. Matthew 25:21.

 Love in Christ, Betsy

Seagulls

They stood like sentinels facing into the wind, aware of me but far enough away to maintain their ground.

I watched as one seagull plummeted repeatedly into the shallow waters offshore. Perhaps they were watching him as well.

At last, he lifted from the water with a small fish sideways in his beak. Squawking loudly through his clinched bill, he circled around to the birds on shore and landed among them. Most of the gulls hopped over to inspect his prize, or being seagulls, to steal it. I have watched them try to pry fish from a pelican’s beak.

The victorious gull rose into the air and circled out into the ocean again, screeching and squawking. He made a wide circle over the waters and returned to the herd of gulls on the shore. I wondered why he didn’t land somewhere away from the others to enjoy his meal.

Five birds hopped over to him again as he continued his loud boasting. Again, he lifted off and flew a wide circle over the waters and returned to the crowd. Only two birds responded to his constant screech as he landed, the small fish still gripped firmly in his beak. Perhaps he was more interested in showing off his success than eating his meal.

Been there; done that.

When he circled again with his uneaten fish, the other gulls ignored him when he landed and so did I. I closed my eyes to the sun and listened to the waves. I listened to the full-throated warble of a gull whose bill was not clamped tightly on a fish, and I heard the continued screeching of boastful fish catcher.

I don’t know if he ever ate the fish, I lost interest in his repetitive attempts to impress the crowd. I rather hope he dropped the fish and other gulls ate it, but that is, perhaps, unkind. He did make the effort to catch the fish. I have watched diving birds enough to know that it is not an easy thing to do. I wish for his sake that the fish would have been a reward enough for his efforts.

Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven. Thus, when you give to the needy, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you. Matthew 6:1-4.

What fish am I holding in my beak and squawking about today? What act of generosity do I trumpet in the streets? What righteousness am I practicing just to be noticed by others?

The waves are calling. The wind sends them crashing on the shore and makes the heat bearable. There are seagulls standing on the shore, staring at the ocean, unaffected by their bragging neighbors. Perhaps their only focus is to appreciate the beauty of God’s creation and give thanks for His bountiful gifts.

I think I’ll join them.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Pretty

I’m trying to make my garden look pretty. I’m not sure why. My sisters are coming over, but it is much too late in life to try to impress them. Very few people see my garden. More to the point, I doubt they would care if it were pretty or not.

So why do I want the edging straight? To make it truly pretty, I would need to get a stronger fence, one that isn’t all bent and mushed from me leaning over it, but then I couldn’t lean over it to reach the ground. I could zip tie the edging more tightly to the raggedy fence, but that will make replacing the fencing more difficult if I choose to do so.

I am pleased that it hides the weeds growing on just the other side. I wouldn’t want anyone to know I had weeds in my garden! The weeds are still there, of course, doing their mischievous work. I have not made the effort to root them out or suppress their growth for the winter. But I would like others to think I have. I would like anyone who wanders into my back yard to think that I am industrious and organized and dedicated and marvelous. How ridiculous.

God is not fooled. He sees the garden as it truly is. I doubt anyone else is fooled either. The wavy fence line is visible from here. One small step closer and you’ll see over the edging and notice the weeds.

My attempts to make my garden pretty are not showing the world how marvelous I am. Instead, they are revealing my fear that you will see my imperfections and shun me for them.

My mind tells me that anyone who will shun me is not worthy of being my friend, but at times I am still that middle schooler entering the lunchroom. I want everyone to be impressed with me, to want me to sit at their table, to like my clothes, my hair, my abilities, my friendly and effervescent personality.

God is not fooled. He sees me as I truly am. I doubt anyone else is fooled either, at least not for long. If they look closely or step nearer, they will see my faults.

The odd thing is that I am rarely bothered by the weeds in other people’s gardens. Not everyone is a meticulous housekeeper. Not everyone is always kind and loving. Most people let vanity and pride, irritation and sarcasm grow in their gardens. We all have our weeds.

So, why do I want my garden to look pretty?

Am I now seeking human approval, or God’s approval? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still pleasing people, I would not be a servant of God. Galatians 1:10.

As with most things, my desire to have a pretty garden could be motivated by a desire to share God’s beauty with the world – an array of colorful flowers, the hues of ripe fruit, the luscious green of healthy plants. After all, God creates beauty every day in the shifting ombre shades of a sunrise or sunset, and my little garden can reflect a little of that.

But God sees my motivation as well as what I am showing to the world. He knows if I strive to honor Him or impress others. If I am reading Matthew 7:21-23 correctly, it is not pious actions, even those done in His name, that God seeks, but a relationship with Him.

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7.

And no wobbly garden edging can hide my weeds from God. He sees them all. And He loves me anyway. He loves you anyway. Perhaps I need to let my weeds show and we can all stop pretending we are weed free, and love each other like He loves us, weeds and all.

Love in Christ, Betsy

A Ripe Fig

I’m tired, y’all.

That seems a poor way to start the “school year,” but as I age my year seems more attuned to my garden than to my kids’ activities.

My garden has been put to bed for the fall. Last year the tomato plants survived into September, but not this year. Brown leafless twigs, I pulled them up. My garden is ready for a rest, and so am I.

I have dedicated this year to learning about the publishing industry, especially as it pertains to publishing works of fiction. I have a renewed appreciation for anyone who has navigated this mine field successfully, for someone who has actually been paid to produce their book.

I have met hundreds of authors who have published books I have never heard of and authors who have published thirty, sixty, over one hundred books that I have never read, and I read a lot. Publishers purchase only three percent (three percent!) of the manuscripts they receive. There are also manuscripts that publishers buy but never publish for one reason or another. And yet there are thousands of published books that never cross my line of sight. When I see an author selling her book at a conference, I feel an urge to support them, filling my bookshelves with even more books to read someday.

All this to say that I am eager to return to my old life – card games and gardening, resting, and reading and enjoying meals with my friends.

And like a gentle reminder, I returned from my sixth writers conference this year (ugh!) to find ripe figs in my garden. Just a few. Just enough to let me know that dead as my garden is, God is not done with it yet.

Only one fig is ripe enough to eat today, dark red and soft to the touch. I left the soft pith melt in my mouth as its sweet juice entices my tongue, then enjoy the satisfying crunch of its tiny seeds. Heavenly. A gift. Fruit in a barren garden.

So, here is the question I plan to ponder this fall: When we fail to accomplish whatever goal we have set for ourselves, what is the lesson?

Is the goal unreasonable?

Is the timeline unrealistic?

Are my methods incorrect?

Is my work inadequate?

Do I double down or pivot to something new?

Is this goal in God’s plan or a selfish desire?

All this is because I have drafted a novel and would love to have a publishing house buy it from me, but there is little evidence to indicate that it will happen. The garden looks dead and ready to rest for the winter.

There are ripe figs in this barren land however, sweet moments that remind me that God is not done with me yet. I savor those gifts.

And I cannot begin to thank you for reading this, sharing this, commenting on my posts, and emailing me. Many times, your comments are the sweet figs that keep me going. Thank you.

Finally, as I enter this time of rest and reflection, I am feeding my soul-soil with scripture. Maybe these words from God will speak to your soul as well.

But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Matthew 6:33.

Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain; unless the Lord guards the city, the guard keeps watch in vain. Psalm 127:1.

Whatever your task, put yourself into it, as done for the Lord and not for your masters. Colossians 3:23.

May you find a sweet fig in an otherwise barren garden today.

Love in Christ, Betsy

A Thanksgiving Story

It was Thanksgiving morning, and the man sat alone in his chair watching the parade on tv. For what was he to be thankful? That his family hadn’t abandoned him after his wife’s death? Ha. He knew they hung around for the money.

No, life was hard. He had studied hard and worked hard and accumulated enough to be comfortable. No one had ever given him anything; why should he thank anyone? Certainly not God, who had taken his wife. Well, maybe not taken. It was time, she was suffering. Maybe he could be thankful she had not lingered on for years in declining ability, worsening health.

But that was just the whims of life and death. He would die someday too. Everybody did. His hard work over the years had paid for the best medical care and daily help available. That was the most he could do. Her death and his death were out of his hands.

Were they in anyone’s hands? Did God ordain when people were born and died? Some people thought so, but it made no sense to him. Certainly, his life was his own to live. People made bad choices which led to an early death; others made good choices that led to a long life.

Except it didn’t always work out that way. Mean-spirited alcoholics lived into their nineties; kind nurses in their twenties were shot in a random act of violence. Obviously no intelligent being planned this.

Unless there was more to “life” than how long you lived it.

He looked out the window at the clear blue sky. He knew it was cold out there. The bare limbs of the tree stood stark against the bright sun. It was stunning. How many moments had he carved out his busy schedule to admire the beauty of late fall? Very few. He had the time now.

He pushed himself out of the chair and walked to the windows. A cardinal sat on a bare branch, his mouth opening and shutting as he called his mate. A murmuration of starlings swooped and swarmed against the blue sky. A squirrel darted up the tree trunk, twitched, and scampered back down. The world was alive out there and it was beautiful.

What a gift to be able to see and appreciate such beauty. He could be thankful for that. He didn’t make the birds, the squirrel. He didn’t even plant the tree or help it grow. Had others done so, or were these just gifts from the universe, accidents in time?

The cardinal turned to face him, tilting his head. Such bright red feathers, such a beautiful crown. The bird seemed as interested in him as he was in the bird. He felt his throat constrict and tears gather in his eyes. What in the world? As if this bird was telling him to remember all the beauty in the world. That this beauty was no accident, but a gift. A gift from a loving God.

The parade still played in the background, loud and falsely cheerful announcers yelling over the carnival sounds. He couldn’t turn away from the cardinal. This silent bird was speaking to his heart in a way the tv announcers never would.

God is real. God is good. God loves you. Give him thanks.

What had he done, really, all by himself? He did not make himself smart. It was not his choice to be born in a peaceful time in a country with a stable economy. He had been successful, but others had helped him along the way. He’d had a long marriage to a wonderful woman, children that would come and take him to their house for dinner later that day. He had food and shelter and clothing and warmth. He could look out his window and see a beautiful world.

Thank you, Lord. Thank you for giving us this day to stop and recognize your presence in the world. Thank you for family and friends and food. Thank you for the beauty of your creation. Thank you.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Flawed

A letter arrived the other day, from one of you. It moved me profoundly. God is using these words that tumble from my brain and that is very exciting.

I went to a writer’s conference full of confidence from the letter, only to lose my credit card in the hustle and bustle. I cancelled the card, and ordered a new one, making a list of companies who would need the new information. Then I found the card. I had looked for it; I had looked for it where I found it, but in my panic, I hadn’t seen it. Then suddenly, there it was. Now I have made unnecessary work for myself. There’s a lesson here, but it is hard to learn.

Stop, Betsy. Stop trying to do everything yourself. Stop pushing so hard. Slow down, ease up, fail a little.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness,” so I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so the power of Christ may dwell in me. 2 Corinthians 12:9.

But I confess – I don’t like weakness. I still want to send out the perfect family Christmas card. I haven’t been able to send one out since Nick died. I show the cute pictures of the grandkids. I don’t even take pictures of them when they are screaming. I brag about my kids, my trips, and my friends.

Sometimes I even brag about what God is doing in my life as if I had something to do with it.

But the truth is, my friends. I am a mess. I lose my credit card in my suitcase. I forget to look at my calendar and miss things. Dishes pile up in the sink, old mail covers my table, and light bulbs go unreplaced. I am too physically soft to garden by myself. I am slow to forgive, especially if it’s not me you have hurt. I insert myself into situations that are not my responsibility. I talk too much. Sometimes I covet worldly wealth and acclaim. And, spoiler alert if you don’t know me, I overeat.

I can pretend that none of these things are true, but it wouldn’t make them less true. I share them because I bet there are some imperfections in you as well. What if we could see these imperfections as places where the Holy Spirit could work through us? What if I could stop pretending that I am a put-together person?

What if God is using me, not because I am so wonderful, but because I am such a mess?

Perhaps my weaknesses help me remember my need for others. I can’t do this, whatever this may be, by myself. I am physically soft, slow to forgive, and careless with belongings; I need others to help me achieve whatever God has put on my heart to do.

For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. 1 Corinthians 12:12.

I don’t have to be perfect, and I don’t have to pretend that I am perfect. I don’t even have to pretend that I have perfected letting others help me. In fact, I may be here to help someone else, not have them help me. One body, working together. The body of Christ in the world. All of us flawed, all of us imperfect, all of us welcomed in grace.

For while we were still weak, at the right time, Christ died for the ungodly… But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. Romans 5:6,8.

It’s okay if you are a mess; we all are. And God loves us anyway.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Connecting

A soft rain and a chilly breeze alert me that the weather has caught up to the calendar. I can turn off my A/C and get out my sweaters. My plans to putter in the yard are put on hold. This will be an inside day. I look forward to snuggling under a blanket with a cup of hot tea or hot chocolate. I might not see anyone today.

Connecting with others is vital to mental health. We learned that during the pandemic. Today, connecting can happen in a myriad of ways, the splashy methods often overshadowing the quieter ones. I’ve seen the quips – four million likes, sixty thousand followers, two hundred thousand subscribers. I have friends who follow thousands of people on twitter. I also have friends who don’t do social media at all. I have friends who don’t text. I would still prefer to have a conversation using my vocal chords.

My writing associates talk a lot about connecting with readers. Not so much because they think you, the reader, need to hear about what they, the writers, have to say; but because connection is vital. It’s the underlying emotion behind those “tell how we met” posts.

It’s got me thinking about how Jesus connected with people. He had every possible means of communication at His disposal. If it didn’t exist, He could create it with a word. He could have come in this age of international, instantaneous communication. But He didn’t.

Jesus walked the earth when walking was the predominate means of travel. Jesus met with people one on one. Jesus spoke to whomever gathered around him, one woman or five thousand men. To our knowledge, He never wrote a letter. His words come to us filtered through the ears and pens of others.

It almost seems like Jesus was more concerned with the connections He was making than with the words He was speaking. And yet, such words!

Come to me, all of you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28.

It’s easy to be concerned about what we say, to whom, and who hears it, reads it, comments on it. I worry about the words spoken in error, in haste, in anger, in ignorance. But words, as poignant as they can be, are secondary to connection.

When I am connected with someone, when I have a relationship with them, I can forgive those words spoken in haste, in anger. Hopefully, they can too. I worry about the words I send out each week. We are not speaking one-on-one, using our vocal chords, but I do feel connected to you, and I pray you feel connected to me.

Take a moment today to connect with God. Sit in silence. Stand with your feet in the grass and take deep breaths. Turn your face to the sky and feel the raindrops or the sunshine. Read a chapter of the Bible with your mind open to what the Holy Spirit wants to say.

God loves you. He wants to take you in His arms and comfort you. He wants you to let go of the tight grip you have on your life and let the tears flow. He has this, whatever this is. Your fears? He is greater. Your anger? He has soothing balm. Your guilt? He will wash it away.

God won’t make your life easy. No one’s life is easy; the problems are just different for each of us. God connects with us. God sent His Spirit to walk with us twenty-four, seven. God created the deepest connection ever imagined – He sent His Spirit to live in us. That is connected, my friend.

Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you? 1 Corinthians 3:16.

We are not alone. We never were and we never will be. God is with us. I pray you take a moment to reach out to God today. And after that, reach out to whomever he puts in your mind. Use your vocal chords and connect.

Love in Christ, Betsy

In the Garden

It is peaceful in my garden. The birds sing and the leaves rustle in the breeze. I pull tomato cages and store them for next year. I sit on the ground and yank the crabgrass roots that run along the fence line. I’m extending the cardboard under the fence this year. To do so, I need to disentangle the fence and the landscape timbers from the crabgrass tentacles.

The activity, the fresh air, the smell of dirt calms me. I feel connected here, connected with the earth, connected with God. Here in the garden, I work, and God provides. I sense my place in the world. Not a world of chaos and panic and accusations, but the world our God created. A world of harmony and interdependence and natural rhythms.

Here in the garden, the cooler weather and shorter days have put even the hardiest pepper plant to rest. It’s November and the garden soil is seeking rest and recovery. Me, too. This will take some effort on my part, a stepping outside, a stepping away. Some intentional action to disentangle myself from the world’s ropey tentacles.

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

By the time you read this, the voting will be over. We may know who our next President is, we may not. Either way, I am sure those who earn their living talking about politics will be busy. Here in the garden, the results of our election don’t matter much. In this space, it is just my hands in the earth, my mind on God.

The tension between being in the world but not of the world is real. Who our representative is, who our president is, matters. How we treat our citizens, our visitors, our allies all matter to the extent it reflects our relationship with God. And as Christians, as followers of Jesus, it is okay to disagree on the best way to show His love. As long as we can agree that He calls us to love.

Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. 1 John 4:7-8.

My muscles strain as I pry the landscapes timbers from the ground. Over the past year, they have become embedded in the yard, some of them decaying, returning to the soil. They don’t want to be moved. But I don’t want weeds invading my garden. Once pried free, I push the cardboard under the fence, under the timber, extending beyond the garden into the yard.

Am I doing this in my life? Am I ridding myself of weeds that entangle, intrusions that sap the nutrients, God’s goodness from me? Am I creating and maintaining a peaceful garden in my life? Am I extending my peaceful garden into the larger world?

I take a deep breath and rest from my labors. I can hear squirrels rustling the tree branches. A dog barks, and the voices of children rise from a nearby church. I smell the dirt, the remnants of tomato and basil and marigolds. What a beautiful world. I open my eyes and see a bunny dart along the creek bank, see the murmuration of birds swooping in the sky. I wonder if we could fly in such a unified manner, if from a distance we do.

It is peaceful here in the garden. But I can’t stay here all day. The world calls. Things to do. People to see. Love to give.

It’s been a good morning. Another section of my garden is ready. A few more frosts and I will plant the garlic. A few more weeks and my family will gather for Thanksgiving. I will be ready. My garden is resting and at peace.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. John 14:27.

I pray your November is peaceful, dear friends. I pray you take the time and make the effort to create a space for God’s peace in your lives. It’s a beautiful world. He’s a loving God.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Fear Not

It’s almost Halloween. Homes are decorated with skeletons, ghosts, cobwebs, and spiders. Networks have been showing scary movies all month.  The news media has been telling us scary stories for months now.

No matter who wins next week, nearly half of our nation has been led to believe the new President will destroy our nation.

Do not be afraid, stand firm, and see the deliverance that the Lord will accomplish for you today. Exodus 14:13.

I have been studying Judges this fall. My regular read through the Bible has me reading Jeremiah. Very scary books of the Bible! Sad, depressing, disturbing – more so than most of the movies that dominate the airwaves in October. Like listening to some of the political pundits.

One of the problems in these Old Testament stories was that the people did not know who to believe. Some prophets said one thing and others said another. All claimed Godly wisdom and authority. Successful people were often ungodly; ungodly people were often used by God; without clear direction, the people chose what was right in their own eyes.

The good news here is that God never forsook, still doesn’t forsake, his people. In the time of judges, we have the beautiful story of Ruth and Boaz and Naomi. While Jeremiah is predicting doom, he buys land in faith they will return. God constantly calls for us to return to Him in faith.

If my people, who are called by my name, humble themselves, pray, seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and will heal their land. 2 Chronicles 7:14.

This is not a call to “them.” This is a call to me, to you.

Skeletons may adorn our neighborhood, psychotic killers may inundate our movies, national upheaval or collapse may seem imminent, but I am turning my eyes and ears away from all that. I will put my faith in God, and Him alone. I have voted, but do not believe the fate of this country is in the hands of the next President. The fate of our country is in the hands of God.

The level of fear around me concerns me. Fear breeds anger and violence. Fear agitates our spirits and steals our peace. In fear, we either abdicate in despair or fight as a one-man army. Fear tells us to protect ourselves at all costs.

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear, for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. We love because he has first loved us. 1 John 4:18-19.

God calls us to leave fear behind and love those who disagree with us. God calls us to put our trust in Him, who will not fail us, and not in the things of this earth, which will fail us. Faith, not in our money, not in our economy, not in our army, not in our alliances, not in our government, in God and God alone.

Some take pride in chariots, and some in horses, but our pride is in the name of the Lord our God. They shall collapse and fall, but we shall rise and stand upright. Psalm 20: 7-8.

Scary times are all around us. Scary times confront most generations, most peoples, most nations. Our response as Christians to scary times is not fear; our response is love and prayer and a renewed commitment to look to Jesus.

Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you; I will help you; I will uphold you with my victorious right hand. Isaiah 41:10.

Happy Halloween, Blessed All Saint’s, be sure to vote.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Joy of Discovery

The sun sits high in the clear October sky. The morning frost has burned away; the browning leaves release their grip and flutter to the ground. A perfect afternoon to work in the garden. I have an hour or two before the game starts.

My garlic bulbs arrived the other day. It’s too early to plant them, but it is time to prepare the space for them, to continue preparing the garden for winter.

As I pull up the weeds, the tangy scent of garlic confronts me. I pull up a green shoot hidden among the brown weeds, A tiny garlic bulb! I pull the weeds more carefully. Are these wild onions or very baby garlic? Suddenly this necessary task has become a treasure hunt. I have the sense that God has hidden these treasures for me, just for the joy it brings me to find them.

How true this is on a grander scale. We as people love to look for and discover things. And there is so much to discover! Look at the skies and all the celestial bodies. Consider the oceans and the vast landscapes and living creatures they contain. Concentrate on a patch of your yard and see the life, the ecosystem, the drama played out in miniature there.

It’s like God is playing peek-a-boo. Like He has hidden a gift for us to find.

The kingdom of God is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid, then in his joy he goes and sell all that he has and buys it. Matthew 13:44.

Scientists spend their lives looking for and finding extraordinary things. As I age, I often find myself resistant to new discoveries, new inventions, new anything. My brain is full. But what scientists are discovering is fascinating. It fills me with wonder and awe and a renewed respect for the brilliant creativity of our God.

Trees communicate with each other. They protect themselves, teach their young, honor some dead and ignore others. They coordinate efforts to erect defenses for their community.

Slime mold will seek out the best way through a maze to food, testing and abandoning dead ends. Scientists have used stimuli to “teach” slime new patterns of behavior which it has passed onto later generations.

Anyone who has ever had a pet knows that animals can be clever, manipulative, demanding, grateful, and loving. They scheme, they interact, and they grieve.

We have known for a long time that animals live in community with each other. Even “small-minded” animals like bees and ants have complicated social structures. Now it seems that plant life does as well.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts higher than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:8-9.

What an amazing world God created! And how wonderful that He imbued us with curiosity, an eagerness to seek and search and uncover. How perfect that He created us to rejoice in discovery; that He gave us such a complicated world to discover.

Is it true that the more we know, the more we realize we don’t know. Thousands of people study genes and diseases and plants and animals and stars and weather and oceans. On a grand scale and on a miniscule scale, our world is a fascinatingly complex place.

Even my backyard holds secrets yet to be discovered. Maybe my brain isn’t as full as I think it is. If a surprise garlic can fill me with joy, what else is there to discover?

For the lord is a great God, and a great king above all gods. In his hand are the depths of the earth; the heights of the mountains are his also. The sea is his, for he made it, and the dry land, which his hands have formed. O come, let us worship and bow down, let us kneel before the Lord, our Maker! Psalm 95:3-6.

Happy Hunting!

Love in Christ, Betsy