Category: Spring

When God brings our world back to life

Something to Cling to

The forecasted rain has yet to arrive, so I head to the garden to water my emerging plants. The garlic thrives, the beets have yet to emerge, but this morning I am drawn to the sugar snaps. Their fragile tendrils reach into the air in search of something solid. Once found, they wrap themselves around the bars of the supports and hold on as if their life depends on it. Once secure on one rung, the plants grow ever upward.

This is Holy Week. What are you clinging to?

Easter traditions of a meal with family? New Spring clothes to herald warmer weather? The laughter of little children discovering eggs filled with treats? What does Easter mean to you?

The Church offers many ways to observe Holy week – The waving of branches and singing of Hosanna; Holy communion in remembrance of the last supper, Passion plays and the stripping of the church, gatherings in the garden, sunrise services, and exuberant Easter celebrations. The known world was changed forever by the actions of this small group of people in a remote backwater. Because they clung to the eternal support shown to them on Easter morning. Jesus the Christ rose from the dead.

There are lots of big words and complex theologies about the why and the how, about who Jesus was and is, about God’s nature and divine will and the Word. We want to understand that which is so much more complicated and complex and powerful than we are. But perhaps faith is best expressed in a story.

The story of a man who claimed to be the Son of God and was put to death for it. And on the third day, on that non-descript Sunday morning, he rose from the dead, proving that his claims were true.

That is what we can cling to. God did something amazing, unbelievable even. But it happened.

For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with he scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, although some have died. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. 1 Corinthians 15:3-7.

Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

We are about to commemorate the beauty of the last supper, Jesus’ obedience in Gethsemane, the horrors of the crucifixion, the despair at his death. It can be tempting to live in that space, to cling to his suffering and his humanity. When we are suffering, it helps to know he suffered as well, even more so than we suffer now. We remember him washing Judas’ feet, dining with him, offering him bread and wine, and know he offers this to us sinners as well.

We can absorb the horrors of Holy Week because we cling to the truth of Easter Sunday.

The wind has been gusty for days now. An outdoor picnic led to plates blown off the table and toys blown across the yard. We were clipping the tablecloth to the table and weighting the boxes of egg dye.

The sugar snaps were unaffected by the wind gusts. They held firm, clinging to the truth of the trellises offered to them.

This is Holy Week. What are you clinging to?

Love in Christ, Betsy

Good Gifts

The sugar snaps are up, the grass is green, and all the fallen limbs have been removed. Chilly mornings lead to warm afternoons, and Spring is in the air. While the changing weather and blooming trees wreak havoc on my sinuses and force me to keep tissues handy, I love this time of year.

Spring is as if God is rewarding me for surviving freezing rains and arctic blasts and the barren landscape. I did not give up hope. I planted seeds in anticipation of warmer weather. The time for sleeping is over – wake little bunny! (One of my granddaughter’s favorite songs.)

Now new plants dot my yard and my garden like Easter eggs waiting to be discovered. Will they grow? What will they look like? How will they taste? Like Jesus’ followers in this passion week, I know change is coming. Something marvelous is about to happen, but it may not be what I thought it would be. It may not even look all that marvelous at first. I have never planted beets or rhubarb before. I may not even recognize the leaves when they break through the ground and begin to grow.

There are times the unknown scares me. I will research what rhubarb and beet plants look like, but that is different from seeing them. Jesus had told his disciples repeatedly what awaited him in Jerusalem, but they still found themselves unprepared and afraid. Not until they saw His risen person could they rejoice in the amazing gift God had given them, given us. But this week, Holy Week, we watch in fear and hope for what God is doing in our midst.

My garden is a pale comparison, a hazy glimpse into God’s love of surprising us with wonderful gifts. Each seed, each root is like an easter egg waiting to be found and opened, hiding its secret gift for me to find.

If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him! Matthew 7:11.

I know these emerging plants are good gifts given by God. Their healthy green leaves face the sun; their tendrils reach for the trellises set around them. They seem joyful, eager to get on with growing taller and bearing fruit. They are growing in fluctuating temperatures and windy days. They are growing in the sure knowledge that they are becoming what God intended them to be – bearers of delicious sugar snaps.

Can I say the same?

Holy Week brings all our emotions into play. Praise and adoration, fear and uncertainty, sorrow and despair, disbelief and amazement, joy and hope. A whirlwind climaxing in the resurrection of Jesus proving Him to be the Son of God, the Son of Man, the Christ. What an amazing gift hidden for those of us who believe, our Savior, the most wonderful gift of all.

These sugar snaps, the greening grass, the warmer temperatures, these are all gifts from a generous and loving God. The encouragement I take from these little plants is a gift as well, as is the anticipation of discovering new plants and new recipes. I suspect He has good gifts in store for you as well. They may be hidden in plastic eggs, scattered across the landscape for us to find. We may not know the gift until we open the egg, plant the seed, try the new thing. We may not know the gift until we have passed through fear, uncertainty, sorrow, or despair. But God gives us good gifts. Keep looking.

Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Gray and Chilly

In the warm weather that brightened our spirits last week, my sugar snaps pushed through the soil and rejoiced with me. But Sunday, I covered them with the protective gauze that keeps them warm and lets in sunlight. A forty degree drop in temperatures would challenge these young plants. I would do what I could to lessen the shock.

This is what March is all about in Tennessee. 75 degrees one day, 35 degrees the next. I would like to say that such weather changes don’t affect me. Unlike my sugar snaps, I live in a climate-controlled space with many resources to protect me from the wintery weather. But the truth is this gray and chilly day has me feeling, well, gray and chilly.

Intellectually I know that such feelings can only affect me if I let them. I am not a sugar snap plant blown by the wind and left to the elements. In my core, I am a child of God, beloved and adopted, chosen to live in a royal priesthood. But today, I am a whiney old widow whose joints hurt.

Usually, when I am feeling gray like this, I wander outside and listen to the creek and the birds. I feel the wind and the sun on my face and stick my hands in the dark, wet soil. But it’s 35 degrees outside and I want to stay inside.

Because I lost three trees to the ice storm in January, I decided to plant two new ones. Not hackberries like the ones I lost, but fig trees. I have a dwarf fig in my garden, but I am planting the not-dwarf kind of fig tree in my yard. They arrived Saturday when it was warm. The temptation was to plant them right away, but I am observing Saturday sabbath for Lent, so I let them sit inside.

Today, I am grateful that these young plants are not exposed to the chilly weather yet. I sense a little providence in their protection. And today, their healthy green leaves and promises of future beauty, shade, and fruit are lifting my spirits.

Even when it is gray and chilly, even when my emotions urge me to curl up on the couch, a young plant reminds me of what opportunities lie ahead – opportunities for warmth, for growth, for bearing fruit. No matter my mood, God gives me the opportunity to care for others, to exhibit joy and love, and to bear fruit for His Kingdom.

It may not look like much right now, but these sugar snaps will grow tall and these small fig plants will become trees. The chill will pass; the sun will burst through the clouds and warm the ground. A little providence and faith will see me through the gray days into His light.

And not only that but we can also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. Romans 5:3-5.

Warmer days are ahead.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Oops!

The garlic is up! I have already cut the scapes once, but I will cut them a few more times before I let them grow unbothered.

The thick green leaves encourage me that there are hearty bulbs below the surface. This especially encourages me because my garlic crop was a failure last year. Not one sprouted. I didn’t want to write about it because who wants to broadcast their failure? Besides, I wasn’t sure what the problem was.

Was there too much water? Had the cardboard poisoned the soil? Had some underground critter eaten them? The options for blame were plentiful.

My previous year’s crop had been successful. When last year’s bulbs came in, I planted them just as I remembered planting them the year before, being careful to always plant the bulbs point down as I remembered doing it the year before. Spacing them out, covering them with dirt, and watering frugally.

That’s the problem with memory. This year, I read the instructions again and watched the video on garlic planting. Perhaps I had done something wrong. Indeed. Garlic bulbs are always to be planted point up. And I had so carefully planted them point down. Poor bulbs! Breaking from their shells to find only darkness and dirt instead of the sunlight they craved.

Do not be wise in your own eyes: fear the Lord and turn away from evil. Proverbs 3:7.

Less than a minute looking at the video with all the bulbs point up and I saw the error in my ways. I had trusted in myself, been wise in my own eyes. I wonder where else this is happening.

How often am I confident that I know what to do, and how often is that in error? Sometimes the results are not as clear cut as no garlic harvest. Like the Pharisees and Sadducees and scribes, I love to study scripture and contemplate theology. But their confidence in their own wisdom made them unable to imagine that God was doing something wonderful in their midst. Jesus broke the Sabbath laws. Jesus touched lepers, ate with sinners, talked to Samaritans. They knew this was wrong.

Is it possible that in my self confidence I have “misremembered” what the scriptures teach? Secure in my understanding, have I judged as right something that is wrong, or judged as wrong something God is using to further His kingdom? Have I been confident in planting my bulbs upside down and then been surprised they didn’t grow?

There is hope. I returned to the basic instructions, those instructions I thought I knew but didn’t. I looked at the picture and could see where I was wrong. Prayer, Spirit-led Bible study, conversations with those whose gardens are full of fruit, all of these can enlighten me to the error of my thinking. And I need to be humble enough to admit I was wrong, brave enough to admit my failure.

Because when the life I am living isn’t producing a harvest of the Spirit’s fruit, I need to examine what the problem is. It may be as simple as pointing the bulbs in the right direction – toward the sun, toward the Son.

Jesus said to them (the Sadducees), “Is this not the reason you are wrong, that you know neither the scriptures nor the power of God?” Mark 12:24

Love in Christ, Betsy

Seeds and Hope

The sun warms my face and arms and a trickle of sweat runs down my face. Sweat! In the cold of a few short weeks ago, planting sugar snap seeds felt like a dream, a wishful hope, a potential impossibility. But here I am. It’s March and I am plating sugar snap seeds and sweating.

I pulled up the tarps which have, hopefully, killed all the emerging weeds. I have made my furrows and covered the dried pods with nutrient rich soil. The ground is damp and rain is in the forecast, so I won’t water today, but I have tested the hose and sprayer in anticipation.

The weather on the first of March was very similar to the weather on the last day of February, but the emotions were far different. March means gardening, getting outdoors, warmer weather, flowering trees, and greening grass. This March I will plant two new fig trees in my yard. Not the dwarf, patio fig I have in my garden but real trees. This March I will host an Easter Egg hunt for a branch of my large family, and my yard needs to be ready. This March, I will add beets to my garden for the first time.

God willing.

Because we don’t really know, do we? I have all these plans, and I will work diligently to put them in place, but who really knows except God? As much as March means warmer weather to me, it can also mean tornados and freak snowstorms. The irises are up and the garlic bulbs are sprouting, the sun is shining and the birds are chirping. Winter is changing into Spring, but we are not there yet.

All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them. They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them. Hebrews 11:13-16.

Am I looking forward to a homeland with Christ as much as I am looking forward to warm weather and tasty sugar snaps? I have faith that His new world will be considerably better than the one I live in now. But the one I live in now can be lovely. Full of people I love and beautiful sunrises and fruit bearing trees.

Have I made plans, prepared myself for that family reunion? Have I planted seeds that will bear fruit there?

My time on this earth is limited. My death may not be imminent, but it is inevitable. 100% probability. I plant. I plan. I hope to make memories and connections and reach out beyond myself. I plant trees even if I may never see them grown. Someone else can harvest their fruit if I am unable. I am just a traveler here, a visitor.

The land shall not be sold in perpetuity, for the land is mine (the Lord’s); with me you are but aliens and tenants. Leviticus 25:23.

I am so grateful for the opportunity to live here, to plant these seeds, to feel the sun on my face and the sweat on my brow. What hope March holds. What hope faith provides. This day is wonderful, a gift. And that future, that future heavenly country? That will be even better.

I drop the seeds into the soil and lift my face to the sun.

Love in Christ, Betsy

30, 60, 100fold

Cucumbers are easily my favorite plant in the garden. Aggressive vines, they fill whatever space I give them and reach for more. Rarely do I have a year when the cucumbers refuse to grow or don’t produce fruit. At this stage they are a luscious green hue and boast large leaves and spreading vines. But they are not identical. Similar plants planted next to each other in the same soil and nurtured in the same way still grow differently.

I don’t know why the plant on the left is so much bigger than the plant on the right. They are both healthy. They are both growing. I expect them both to yield cucumbers later this summer.

My grandkids are like this. Although they are twins, a boy and a girl, my grandson is significantly larger than my granddaughter. This may or may not be true their entire lives. I don’t know if the smaller cucumber will have a growth spurt and catch up to the size of his neighbor, or if it will always be a smaller plant. The beauty is – it doesn’t matter. Not in my eyes and not in God’s eyes.

Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain. Some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Matthew 13:8.

In the parable of the sower and the seed, Jesus distinguishes the seed that was unable to bear fruit from the seed that did but is not critical of the seed that produces “only” thirtyfold.

If only I could be so gracious!

Comparisons and competition are an inevitable part of life, but I wonder if they need to be. I love to watch football and basketball, cooking competitions and singing competitions. I love to play bridge and mahjong. I like to win. But the truth is, I often lose. And in any competition, most people “lose.” If only one person can be the best, it’s a good chance that the person is not me, or you.

Fortunately, God does not call us to “win.” He askes us to bring our failures and weaknesses to Him and let him use them to further His kingdom. His “power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

In the parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30), The servant who presents four talents receives the same praise as the servant who produces ten. They both doubled what they were given.

Perhaps, the smaller cucumber plant is doing just as well, or even better, with what it started with than the larger one. Perhaps the plant producing 30fold faces obstacles unknown to us. Perhaps that harvest is more miraculous than the abundant 100fold harvest. Who am I to judge?

And by the time my cucumbers do produce, it will be difficult to determine which vines are producing which fruit. They will intertwine and climb together until all I see is a lovely cucumber harvest.

I am so grateful for my growing cucumbers, the large and small ones. All are evidence of healthy soil and sufficient water and nutrients. All are growing, and Lord willing, all will produce fruit. My role as the gardener is to encourage each one of them.

In yoga class, out teacher reminds us to keep our eyes on our own mat. Sometimes, that is difficult. The urge to compare and contrast is constant.

But when they measure themselves by one another, and compare themselves with one another, they do not show good sense. 2 Corinthians 10:12.

Instead, Let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. Hebrews 12:1-2.

Jesus tells us that good soil produces grain, some thirty, some sixty, and some one-hundred-fold. All are cause for celebration.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Prodigy

I slip on my garden shoes and head out the back door. The sun peeks over the tree line and warms my face. Green hedges and green trees greet me everywhere I look. May is a wonderful time to be outside.

I pick a few sugar snaps to savor as I walk along the summer plants. The lighter green leaves of new growth bring a smile to my face. “Look how big you’re getting!” Words of encouragement that every living thing needs.

I wander down the row of tomatoes and stop. A tomato? It’s May!

May is when my summer plants send down roots and establish themselves in the ground. May is when my plants grow tall and spread their branches. This little plant thinks May is a time to produce tomatoes.

I know that having a little green tomato in May does not necessarily mean I will have a red ripe one in June. Sometimes the constrained nature of the seedling container encourages the plant to blossom early. There’s a good chance the plant will redirect its energy to establishing roots and spreading out branches now that it’s in the ground. The plant will reabsorb and redistribute the nutrients needed for the tomato to ripen.

Perhaps this little plant is a prodigy, and it will produce fruit now and for months to come. Perhaps that is in the DNA of cherry tomato plants. I haven’t planted one in years. I stopped because the clusters of tiny tomatoes often ended up on the ground, too easily dropped from their branches. But my grandkids love these little tomatoes, so I am growing them.

What I hope is that the plant is not peaking too early, blooming before it’s established enough to withstand the summer heat. Perhaps it is too eager to display its accomplishments, producing tomatoes and ignoring the deep underground work of establishing roots.

Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil. But when the sun rose, they were scorched, and since they had no root, they withered away. Matthew 13:5-6.

Only time will tell if this is a prodigy or an early bloomer.

Maybe this plant will produce tomatoes in June and be spent and exhausted, unable to endure the heat of late summer. Or maybe it will produce tomatoes continuously for months.

I’m too old to be a child prodigy or even an early bloomer. But I am prone to display my thoughts and actions before I have given them a chance to develop roots. Perhaps I need to redirect my resources to reaching deep into the quiet darkness to find the nutrients and moisture hidden there.

All of us Marthas in the world wish we could be a little bit more like Mary, both the one who sat at Jesus’ feet (Luke 10:42) and the one who pondered things in her heart (Luke 2:19).

I hope this little plant is sending down roots, establishing itself firmly so it can withstand the heat of summer.

I hope I am too. And you, as well. So that we may grow tall and healthy and spread out our branches, providing shade and fruit and enough room for birds to nest (Luke 13:18). What a beautiful vision of the family of God, a healthy and growing garden.

Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. John 15:4.

As exciting as it is to see a tomato on the vine in May, I pray that this little plant, and all of us, will take the time to establish our roots firmly so we can abide in the vine and produce an abundant harvest.

Love in Christ, Betsy

First Fruits

I have sugar snaps! Small green pods emerged from the white blossoms. The pods grew long and fat in the cool, wet weather until finally they are ready for harvest. What a gift!

I walk along the vines, shorter than I would like them to be, and pinch off the larger peas. The peas hide behind the leaves and blend in with the stalks, hiding themselves from my eager hands. These are the first fruits of the sugar snaps, the first fruits of my garden.

I take a bite, sweet and crunchy, and another as I savor the freshness of the peas, and the moisture from the morning dew. I eat a few more before I remember I need to take a picture of my harvest!

That a delicious fruit would emerge from the seed I planted is February is a small miracle, a common one, but miraculous all the same. The plant grew, reached out, drew itself higher. It took nutrients and water from the ground and used the sun’s warmth to transform these elements into a living, growing thing. Flowers appeared from nowhere and produced fruit. Somehow, the knowledge, ability, and desire to do these things was contained in miniscule DNA of the seed I planted. And people say there is no God!

Ask the plants of the earth and they will teach you; and the fish of the sea will declare to you. Who among you does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this? Job 12:8-9.

This has been a chaotic spring for me. I dedicated myself to polishing my first novel, attending writers’ conferences, and submitting my work for review and critique. I have not given my garden the attention it has received in the past, but God has rewarded the effort I did extend to it by producing these incredible peas.

He has rewarded my efforts in other ways as well – speaking engagements, continued book sales, a growing readership, and recognition from the Association of Christian Fiction Writers. It’s been a busy and productive spring for me, and this harvest is the perfect transition to the coming summer.

The temptation is to think that my dedication and my efforts made any of this happen. But I did not make the seed grow. I merely planted the seed and tended the garden. I set aside my desires to binge-watch mindless television and allowed God to produce fruit in my life. And what joy and affirmation that fruit brings!

Will I let Him grow gentleness in me? Patience? He has produced joy when I thought I would never feel it again. He is producing self-discipline, a fruit I never thought I would bear. Did He plant miniscule DNA in me that contained the knowledge, ability, and desire to bear these fruits? Are the in the DNA of the Holy Spirit which He sent to live in me?

And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you. John 14:16-17.

The appearance of fruit continues to amaze me. Whether it’s a sugar snap or the word not spoken, God blesses me with fruit. Sometimes, I feel the fruit will never arrive, but it always appears at the perfect time. As if God knows, because He does.

Whether you are waiting to blossom, watching your fruit grow, or enjoying a bountiful harvest, know that God wants to produce delicious fruit through you – fruit that will refresh and nourish the world.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Bad News, Good News

The bad news is that my sugar snaps will not be the tall, thick, over-abundant crop they were last year. Could it be chemicals from the cardboard? Did the cardboard move and suppress some seeds? Did the heat and rainless days, coupled with my inattention, stunt their growth? It could even be the absence of Miracle Gro in their infancy. Most likely, a combination of these factors caused me to have a short and patchy sugar snap crop.

The good news? Look at the blossoms! Each of these dainty white flowers will yield a delicious sugar snap. These short plants are healthy. They are green, and they are flowering. My mouth waters in anticipation of that first sugar snap pod. Sweet and crunchy, damp with the morning dew. Maybe next week…

What a gift that God created blossoms. Vibrant pink, dainty white, or bold shades of yellow, these bursts of color let us know that the plant is alive and thriving. Blossoms bring color to the browns of winter and the greens of summer. They bring proof of life and hope for growth, beauty in the moment and a foreshadowing of future fruit.

From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth is leaves, you know that summer is near. Matthew 24:32.

God gives us hints of good things to come. Bad things too, if we have sown seeds of anger and hatred. But that is a thought for another day. Today, it is enough to revel in the sugar snap blossoms.

How easy it would be to get discouraged by a crop that is not as abundant as I had wanted. How easy it is to compare this year’s crop to last year’s and find it lacking. But every crop is different. Every year is different. And here’s the thing, this smaller crop may be an answered prayer.

I will be unavailable to pick my sugar snaps in late May, when they usually come in. Last year, I was picking 60 plus peas a day in late May. I was worried about this year’s harvest being lost. I planted the peas early so they would come in early, but if the weather had stayed cool, the plants would have matured longer (probably grown taller) and produced their flowers later. There was a chance I could miss the harvest.

But the higher temperatures and stunted growth have allowed my sugar snaps to flower in late April and bear fruit in early May. God is so good!

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28.

So, maybe it’s all good news. Perhaps I shouldn’t complain or fret if reality does not look like I imagined in my head. This year is not last year. My life is different, my garden is different, the temperatures are different, why would I expect my garden to be the same?

What looks like a failure, or a disappointment, may be the perfect solution.

Perhaps, if I stop trying to impose my will on the situation, I can see how beautifully God has knit the world together. What love He has for the world that He gives us blossoms and hope, rebirth and growth, and perfect solutions to enrich our souls.

I should have sugar snaps by next week. Good news!

Do not be afraid; for see – I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people. Luke 2:10.

Has God shown you a blossom, a promise of growth and future fruit? Is God transforming what looked like disappointment into answered prayer? Are you focusing on the bad news or the Good News?

The fruit is coming soon!

Love in Christ, Betsy

Rain that Restores

I got spoiled by the daily rains and moderate temperatures and forgot about my sugar snaps. The temperatures rose into the eighties, and I went to the lake for a few days. When I came home, I found my sugar snap plants traumatized by the heat and lack of water.

I do my best, but sometimes I let down those who depend on me.

I now spend time with my sugar snaps every day. I speak soft words of encouragement and sing gentle melodies. I add plant food to the hose nozzle and water them daily. They are recovering. New green growth graces their stems. The browned leaves are returning to health. I think they will recover sufficiently to bear fruit in the future.

In my efforts to restore my sugar snaps, I can’t forget these new plants I added to my garden – tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, basil, and oregano. Or ignore my garlic, fig, and raspberries. Perhaps I have over committed, but these plants are in the ground, and I need to care for them.

I have a soaker hose stretched along most of the garden, but it didn’t extend to the sugar snaps. They rarely last into June due to the heat. Surely, I can water them by hand until then. And yet I didn’t. And I head out of town again in May. Do I need plant-sitters to water and pick my sugar snaps daily?

As I write this, a gentle rain soaks my garden. Clouds promise to keep the temperatures in the seventies. God is tending my garden today. He is tending His wider garden of flowers and trees that are bursting with new life. I am so grateful for His sustaining love.

In past generations he allowed all the nations to follow their own ways; yet he has not left himself without a witness in doing good – giving you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons, and filling you with food and your hearts with joy. Acts 14:16-17.

As much as I care for my garden and extend extra care to my sugar snaps, God cares even more for us and our growth. Sometimes we are traumatized by the actions of others. Sometimes we feel ourselves wither under adverse conditions. Sometimes we are burdened by the guilt of our own actions or failure to act. Sometimes, I find it hard to grow.

I trust that God will send his gentle rains and the clouds that hide the sun’s harsh glare. And when the time is right, He will clear the skies and warm the earth and I will reach for those bright rays of sunlight.

I think my sugar snaps will be all right. I will devise a way to extend the soaker hose to include them while I am away. I have friends and family who can harvest peas and tend to the plants. I have confessed my inattentiveness and been forgiven. I am working to repair the damage done. This gentle rain reminds me that God is working to repair the damage as well, out of love for all He created.

For thus says the Lord God, the Holy One of Isreal: In returning and rest, you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength… He will give rain for the seed with which you sow the ground, and grain, the produce of the ground, which will be rich and plenteous. On that day your cattle shall graze in broad pastures. Isaiah 30:15,23.

When the rain stops, I’ll head to the garden and talk with my growing plants. Nourished by gentle rain and encouraged by moderate temperatures, I hope that they will encourage me in return. God is so good and so faithful, sending the rain on the righteous and the unrighteous (Matt. 5:45). May you and I both be restored by soft rain and gentle melodies.

Love in Christ, Betsy