Category: Spring

When God brings our world back to life

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

God’s Gifts

The sun shines brightly over the tree line in the cloudless sky. A gentle breeze keeps the temperature pleasant. Water ripples in the creek but I cannot hear it above the buzz of the cicadas in the hedges. Only the chorus of birdsong rises louder than the constant hum.

I slip on my garden shoes and head to the garden. The clover that passes for grass in my yard is still damp from the overnight dew.

As I draw closer to the sugar snaps, I can see them dangling among the leaves. Short ones, tall ones, skinny ones, fat ones. Beautiful.

Pinching one off the vine, I pull the stringy fiber from their sides, use my fingertips to wipe off any dirt, and pop it in my mouth. Cool to my lips, their sweetness assaults my tongue. A quick crunch and my mouth fills with its nectar. Sweet and crisp and divine. A few satisfying crunches and I reach for another. Food from the gods, well, food from my God.

As I stand there and eat a few more, I am overwhelmed by the bounty. No need to grab the hose, no need to cut or train or pull or labor at all. Just stand here and let these gifts nourish me.

I wonder if this is how God intended the world to be. I wonder if this is how the world was before we mucked it up. Just delicious abundance at our fingertips.

Out of the ground the Lord God made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food, the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Genesis 2:9.

One of the many evils of war is starvation, not just hunger, starvation. Something almost unheard of in peaceful, affluent America, where obesity, diabetes, and heart disease seem to be the problem.

What a gift it would be if I could transport these sugar snap plants, if they could grow where the bombs drop, and the bullets fly. If only they would grow in the decimated cities where people scramble and hide and starve.

For there shall be a sowing of peace; the vine shall yield its fruit, the ground shall give its produce, and the skies shall give their dew; and I will cause the remnant of this people to possess all these things. Zechariah 8:12.

After a few sugar snaps, I am satisfied. I pick the rest of the ripe ones before they get too big and sour and put them in my pocket. I can share them with my family and friends. They are not starving, but they may need a smile, a laugh, a hug, or an outstretched hand. My outstretched hand will offer sugar snaps, God’s gift to me which I will share with you.

You may not have sugar snaps growing in your yard, but God has given you a gift to share as well. You may have trouble finding a smile today. Some days are like that. But you can stretch out your hand to someone and offer what you do have – a listening ear, a quiet presence, a loving heart.

Take a moment today to revel in the sun shining in the sky, the breeze cooling the air, the birdsong overpowering the cicada buzz. God continues to gift us with such treasures, everything that is pleasant to the sight and good for food. Even when we muck it up, even while there is evil in the world, God continues to provide us with good and beautiful things.

Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Philippians 4.8.

Betsy

Pentecost Peas

Christmas may the time of year when we most think about gifts, but right now, this week, is when the children of God celebrate His gifts to us.

Look at the sugar snaps bursting forth from the sap in the vine! Food from nothing, a dried-up seed pod, a patch of dirt, a little water. And God has provided me with crisp, tasty, nutritional goodness, necessary vitamins, pleasing sensations.

And once again these amazing testaments to God’s provision are bursting on the scene at Pentecost.

Pentecost is the Israeli day of celebration after fifty days of thanking God for their home, their crops, their freedom, a period called the Festival of Weeks. The first of their crops were offered to God in thanks.

You shall take some of the first of all the fruit of the ground from the land that God is giving you, and you shall put it in a basket and go to the place that the Lord your God will choose. Then you, along with the Levites and the aliens who reside among you, shall celebrate with all the bounty that the Lord your God has given to you and your house. Deuteronomy 26: 2,11.

But Pentecost, the Feast of Shavuot, is also the time when Jewish believers celebrate the gift of God’s law. What an amazing gift His law is! Have you ever had a teacher or a boss who was unclear about what they expected from you? What were they grading you on? Punctuation and spelling? Symbolism and style? How firm was the due date? It can be demoralizing to not know what is expected of you. That is why God’s law is a gift. We know exactly what He expects of us.

“Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind’ (Deuteronomy 6:4). This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ (Leviticus 19:18) On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets,” Matthew 22:34-40.

For Christians, Pentecost also celebrates the gift of God’s Spirit to believers. The Spirit of God is an ever-present player in the Old Testament, anointing judges with wisdom and strength, giving prophets dreams and visions, enabling victory against overwhelming odds. Since Jesus’ resurrection and return to heaven, the Spirit of God now comes and resides in the hearts of all believers.

Peter said to them, “Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far way, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him. Acts 2:28-29.

What an amazing gift! God’s Spirit residing with me, empowering me, enabling me to accomplish what He has set out for me to do, talking with me, comforting me, and leading me into knowledge. That Spirit, like the sap in my sugar snap vine, creates fruit and life and abundance where there was none. Bounty from a dried-up pod, a patch of dirt, and a little water.

I have so much to be thankful for this Pentecost season. Abundance from the earth, direction and guidance, and His enabling Spirit which makes it all possible.

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

Is the Spirit’s presence in your life bearing fruit that nourishes and refreshes the world? Is love bursting from you like these sugar snaps are bursting from my plants? God has shown us through our gardens that it can happen. God can transform a seed into a fruit, barren ground into a garden. God has told us what He wants to grow in us – love, love for Him and for each other. And God has given us His Spirit to make it happen. What amazing gifts!

Betsy

Ancient Remedies

There is a newish trend coming out of Japan – forest bathing.

It seems the overcrowded, performance-driven Japanese culture has resulted in high blood pressure, anxiety, and nervous disorders. To combat this, doctors have been prescribing forest bathing. The doctor orders the patient to go outside into the woods and soak in nature for thirty minutes. Take deep breaths, smell the wood and rot and flowers, rub your hands along tree bark, dig your toes into the moss and dirt. Instead of planning your next project, making lists of things to do, or replaying past conversations, focus your mind on the beauty around you. Use all your senses to immerse yourself in the woods.

Even as I avoid the cicadas buzzing in the trees and covering the ground, I try to apply a little of this medicine to my life. Daily rain has kept the mowers away and my yard is awash in white clover blossoms. As I inhale deeply, the faint scent of honeysuckle greets me from the hedgerow. The almost-rain humidity leaves a sheen on my arms and dampens the back of my neck.

In C.S. Lewis’ Screwtape Letters, the demons bemoan their failure when their target takes a walk in the woods.

The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork. Psalm 19:1.

But if the cicadas are keeping you inside today, let me suggest another remedy for relieving stress and anxiety – God bathing.

Non-believers might substitute meditation for God-bathing, and certainly sitting quietly, beathing deeply, will calm your body and reduce stress.

But just as forest bathing is a better cure than meditation, God bathing is better yet.

Stop your daily activities for thirty minutes and sit quietly with God. When you still all the activity in the front of your brain, then the deep-seated causes of unrest can emerge from the recesses. Give this to God. Hand it like a child would hand over a cicada shell. No words are necessary. Your loving Father knows, and He can help.

Read a bit of scripture and let it soak in. Rub your hand along its bark and smell the scent it offers. Put yourself in the scene. Imagine hearing these words for the first time. Hear the murmurs of those around you, sense the sheen rising on your arms and on the back of your neck.

Imagine being in the presence of God. Imagine the heaven of Revelation, the new earth, the celestial bodies, the thousands of martyred worshipers.

Imagine talking with Jesus on a dusty road as you trudge along, weary, and disappointed. Let Him explain the scriptures to you, opening your eyes to all that God has told us about Himself. Does not your heart burn as He reveals Himself to you?

The prescription for forest bathing may be a new thing, but God bathing is an ancient remedy.

Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of the scoffers; but their delight is in the law of the Lord and on his law they meditate day and night. They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper. Psalm 1:1-3.

Dig your toes into the soil of the scripture and feel what grows there. Take a deep breath of His amazing love that draws you closer and closer, no matter what you have done or been or desired. Sense His arms around you. Feel Him lift the weights from your shoulders and blow a cooling breeze on your sweat-soaked face. Bathe in His love, care, and concern.

Would you consider this your prescription? Spend thirty minutes today God bathing. God can do amazing things in our lives if we give Him the chance.

Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. John 14:12.

Betsy

Growth

The sugar snaps are growing. The older ones are my height now, the younger ones are chest high. They are reaching out for anything to twirl their tendrils around, constantly pulling themselves upward. They are growing.

God fuels their growth with rain, and I provide water on dry days. They battle the weeds which have sprung up around them, trying to divert their upward growth. Some plants seem to struggle more than others.

I planted these seeds later than usual, so the garden is a few weeks behind my garden last year. The calendar date does not dictate when they blossom; the plants must reach a certain maturity before they produce fruit. My sugar snaps are still growing.

I could be frustrated that I don’t have fruit yet. It is May. But my frustration would not make these plants produce flowers. Seventy days of growth will bring fruit if they get plenty of water and overcome the weeds. Soon, but not today.

Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth… James 5:7.

Are you growing? Am I? Are we impatient to bear fruit when God knows we need this time to grow?

Some of you may be taller than me, further along in your maturity. Some of us may be battling invasive weeds which tie us down and hinder our growth. Some of us may be living in dry days; we may need the living water of communion with God before we can continue to grow.

The growing season can seem to last forever. Fear nibbles at the back of my brain, telling me things will never change, the plant will never flower, the fruit will never come. But that is not true.

Just as my toddler grand-twins will one day tie their shoelaces even though they can’t now, so my plants will one day bear sugar snaps, so we will one day bear the fruit God is growing in us.

The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come. Mark 4:26-29.

God is the one growing fruit. As Jesus tells us in John 15, only God can produce His fruit in us; we cannot produce it on our own. We sprout and grow, and we do not even know how. It is not my job to worry about when His fruit will appear. It is my job to stay connected to the vine, stay hydrated with prayer, and overcome the weeds. And to watch for the fruit, to put it to good use once it appears.

I am proud of my growing sugar snaps. They look beautiful to me, reaching out, reaching up, growing taller every day. To think that the dried pods I put in the ground in March have matured into these plants amazes me. God has completely transformed them. Once lifeless, they are now on the cusp of bearing fruit. Isn’t God amazing?

Too often I am so focused on what has not yet happened that I fail to see all that God has already done. He has brought life where there appeared to be none. He does it every day, everywhere. He has brought growth even when we thought it impossible.

Today, I rejoice and give thanks for growth. Won’t you join me?

Let the heavens be glad and let he earth rejoice, and let them say among the nations, “The Lord is King!” Let the sea roar, and all that fills it; let the field exalt, and everything in it. I Chronicles 16:31-32.

Amateur Gardener

As I choose seedlings for my summer planting, I am reminded once again of how much of an amateur gardener I am.

Staring at the rows of healthy little green plants, I am amazed at the different fruits and vegetables, the variety of options, the abundance of choices. And this is just one garden center. There are thousands of these centers and millions of these plants.

Serious gardeners, professionals, grew all these seedlings from which I get to choose a few for my garden. Rows of squash varieties, cucumbers and eggplants, shelf after shelf of pepper choices, hundreds of herbs and spice plants, an entire area devoted to tomatoes. Scientists and researchers created hybrid varieties of every plant to maximize various desired attributes such as size, color, germination, heat resistance, taste, seed content, spice level, and the timing of fruit production. The people who developed and grew these plants were serious gardeners.

But as amateur as I may be, I am still a gardener.

Some gardeners strive to keep their harvest organic, grow the largest tomato, or cultivate the pretty heirloom ones. Some gardeners research techniques that replenish the soil or reflect ancient traditions. Some gardeners want their yards on the tours and spend hours making them pristine. Some have agricultural degrees and teach Master Gardening classes. I just want home-grown produce.

As simple as my goals are, I am still a gardener.

If you have one tomato plant in a pot on your balcony, or one flower you have kept alive, you too are a gardener.

Very truly, I tell you, anyone who hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life, and does not come under judgement, but has passed from death to life. John 5:24.

I am so tempted to compare myself to others; are you as well? There are some much better gardeners out there, and some much “better” Christians. You know the ones – they go about singing praise music all the time and only read uplifting books. They never get angry with their kids or over-imbibe. They spend hours feeding the hungry, visiting prisons, and caring for the poor. They remind me of what an amateur Christian I am.

But as amateur as I may be, I am still a Christian. I believe and I am a witness to God’s amazing love.

And if you have heard His word and truly believe in Him, then you too are a Christian.

But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. John 1:12-13.

If you have planted a seed, if you have a tomato plant on your balcony, if you have believed enough to act, then you too are on the path to witnessing to God’s love for the world.

But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. James 1:18.

Because just looking at the rows of plants at the garden center does not make me a gardener. Taking one home and planting it in my yard does. But that is all it takes. I do not have to be a Master Gardener, which requires education, experience, and community service.

I do not have to a minister or a missionary, but I do need to act on my belief in God.

I give you a new commandment that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. John 13:34-35.

I may be an amateur, but I can love my neighbor. I can love the person in need. I can respond in love when someone breaks line or insults me. I can love those with whom I disagree.

God’s love, planted and growing inside me, gives me the power to share this love, His love, with others. Let’s not leave the gardening up to the professionals. Join me and we can spread His love over all the earth.

Betsy

Something to Hold

The sugar snap plants are about knee high. Every day they try to pull themselves higher and higher, away from the dirt and closer to the sun.

Fragile tendrils reach out into the air searching for something they can grab. When they find the metal ribs of the bean poles and cages, they wrap themselves around and pull the growing plant in that direction. They look dainty and delicate, but holding on tightly, they pull their large plants along with them.

On occasion, they find weeds or bits of straw in closer proximity than the metal supports. As the tendrils grab hold, they pull the plant toward the ground instead of toward the sun. I have to be very careful not to damage the plant as I loosen its grip on the weed and transfer the tendrils to the closest support.

I am amazed at the strength and tenacity of these little tendrils, searching for something to hold, something to wrap themselves around and cling to with all their might. How brave they are to extend themselves into space, looking, searching. How I pray they find the sturdy metal supports and not the dead straw or low-lying weeds.

From there you will seek the Lord your God, and you will find him if you search after him with all your heart and soul. Deuteronomy 4:29.

For everyone who asks, receives, and everyone who searches, finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Matthew 7:8.

Am I sending out tendrils looking for God, or for recognition? Am I searching for friends and their acceptance, or the friendship of the Spirit? Is it financial success I seek, or the praise of my Lord?

How easy it is sometimes to attach ourselves to dead straw or low-lying weeds instead of the strong supports available. Sometimes these things are closer, easier. Attaching to them takes less effort than extending ourselves into what looks like empty space, trusting that we will find something dependable there, trusting that God is there to support us.

When we have hold of one beam of support, the next one looks a long way away. The upward growth of my plants is not easy. They must constantly send out tendrils reaching for the next rung of support. When they find it, these tendrils must pull the ever-increasing weight of the plant up to its new height.

What a beautiful example for Christian living.

Am I constantly reaching out to grow closer to God? Am I grasping onto the firm supports of Biblical knowledge, pastoral support, and Godly fellowship? Am I allowing the tentative, delicate tendrils of faith to pull me out of the dirt and closer to the Son?

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud 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, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. Hebrews 12:1-2.

The framework of support is available. God is here among us. He may look like He’s far away, but if we reach out our fragile arms in faith, we will find Him.

And if we wrap our arms around Him, if we hold onto God, to Jesus and His Spirit, our whole lives can be lifted higher. Just as the sun gives my sugar snaps the energy to grow, so does the Son give us the ability to grow in our faith.

But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. John 1:12-13.

That is something to reach toward, my friends. That is something to seek and find. That is something to hold.

Betsy

Fertilzer

This time of year, I don’t need to water my garden very often; God waters it regularly. When I do need to, I add diluted Miracle Gro. I don’t know if this makes my garden non-organic, but the plant food is not toxic. At least it’s no more toxic than organic fertilizer, natural fertilizer. Because we all know what true fertilizer is and where it comes from and the diseases it can carry.

One of the benefits of living in a flood plain is that my soil gets renewed every few years, replenishing the nutrients lost to the plants. It’s the upside to getting water in my garage.

Around the turn of the last century, we went through a prolonged period without flooding. Our soil got depleted. Wary of using too much store-bought plant food, Nick purchased a trailer load of manure. We let it sit over the winter, let it mellow so it wouldn’t burn the plants.

What I remember was the stench. And the sense that something mysterious and creepy was happening under that tarped mound in the back yard. I don’t remember ever getting near it. In the spring, Nick shoveled it into the garden and tilled it into the soil.

Until one hundred years ago, that pile of fermenting, noxious yuckiness was what fertilizer was.

Then he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the gardener, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and I still find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’ He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.” Luke 13:6-9.

Do you think he grinned when He said this? I imagine the rough fishermen laughing.

Is that what we need at times in our lives when we are not producing His fruit? Do we need our loving and patient gardener to dig a hole around us and fill it with … manure?

Jesus was not giving gardening advice. He had just told his listeners to repent or perish; He’d repeated it. (Luke 13:3,5). He might have grinned at what it takes to make some people repent, but unless that manure worked the fruitless tree would be cut down.

When we are surrounded by noxious yuckiness, when the stench greets us each day, when the tarp in the yard cannot hide what’s under it, it is sometimes hard to see God at work in our lives.

Manure can be toxic, deadly. To plants, animals, and humans. But in the right hands, this filth can be transformed into fertilizer; this poop can help my plants grow, maybe even call me to repentance and save my life.

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

Even floods and piles of manure.

God using ‘bad’ things to call us to repentance does not make them ‘good’ things; floods and manure can still kill you. But they can also bring you closer to God, give you fresh insights and resources, provide nutrients essential for the bearing of fruit.

That’s why Jesus can instruct us to rejoice when we are persecuted (Matthew 5:12). That’s why James can ask us to consider trials a joy (James 1:2). That’s why Paul can encourage us to rejoice in our suffering (Romans 5:3).

Nothing is waste in God’s economy. He can use all that yuckiness, all that deadly, toxic mess in our lives, to bring us closer to Him, to bear fruit for His kingdom.

You can’t always see it when you are in the middle of it but give thanks to God. He is drawing you closer to Him.

Betsy

Come to the Garden

Come along with me to the garden.

See the emerging plants bursting into the daylight from the dark soil.,

Smell the dirt, the dank aroma of vital minerals placed at our fingertips. Smell the heavy sweetness of the flowering trees and the gentle whiffs of honey from the bushes.

Hear the symphony of birds calling for each other, sharing the news, searching for food, shelter and friends.

Feel the warmth from the sun heat your skin, the gently breeze, the blinding light.

In the distance, mowers and sirens and honking horns remind me that I am in the midst of a city; others are rushing about their day, busy with their lives, desperate or hurried or hard at work.

But here in the garden the young plants reach for the metal supports like young children reaching for a parent’s hand. Listening to some innate urging, the fragile tendrils cling to the poles, wrap themselves around them and pull themselves toward the sun.

Will you help me help them? Adjust the nozzle setting on the hose and depress the handle. A gentle mist sprays the sugar snaps who bend under the pressure. The green leaves shudder as the dirt darkens and pools collect around the stalks. The needy ground quickly pulls all the moisture out of sight, down to hidden roots. As the pressure of the sprayer lessens, the plants snap back to their upright posture, tiny droplets breaking free from their leaves. They seem happy.

Walk with me along the garden to my new plants. The fig and raspberry stalks are struggling to adapt. I fear it is cooler than they like it, but I water and encourage them. It’s still early; they may yet grow. Turning the nozzle to a stream of water, I soak the base of the plants, pausing to let the soil absorb it, then soaking it again.

Changing the nozzle setting back to spray, I survey my determined garlic plants. Can you smell the scapes when the water hits them? Just a hint of garlic? Or is that my imagination? If I touch the leaves I can smell garlic on my hands, reminding me of the basil. Do all leaves smell?

The aroma of cut grass wafts from the neighbor’s yard, kicked up by the mower. Are we insensitive to the scents around us, until they are cut, bruised, touched? What other plants in my yard can speak to my senses like the garlic, the grass? See the tall onion grass growing there?

Look across my yard. Tiny dots of white and purple and yellow flowers cover my yard like dabs of paint on a green canvas. Tall onions and balls of dandelion seeds rise above the mix. Soon the mowers will come and tame their enthusiasm, but they will grow again.

Winding the hose back into its resting spot, I ask you to look over the rest of my garden. Soon I will plant cucumbers at the far-right end of the garden. All this space on the right will be for the tomatoes. I plan on planting peppers here in the middle.

It’s all just cardboard covered ground right now, until the chance of a freeze has passed. But I can see a growing garden. I have seen it for thirty years. I know what it looks like, what it can look like. I know the dangers, the risks, the challenges. But I also know the joy of fruit ripening, of juicy tomatoes and crispy cucumbers eaten the day I pick them.

Won’t you come with me to the garden today?

God is already here. He created this ground, these plants, those birds, that sky. He created you and me. He gave us an innate desire to grow, to reach out for others and for Him.

For what can be known 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 thought they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made. Romans 1:19-20.

Come along with me to the garden.

Betsy