The dandelion mocks me from the driveway. I am worried about planting the sugar snap seeds without tilling the ground. The bright yellow flower laughs at my lack of faith.

Nick always tilled the ground before planting. I continued the practice. After we took down the garden fence and removed the landscaped timbers in the fall, our garden reverted to yard each winter. Each spring, we tilled the garden to prepare it for seeds and plants.

This past fall, I left the fence and timbers in place. I pulled the old plants and weeds and covered them with cardboard. My garden stayed garden and not yard. Theoretically, I do not need to till.

Tilling reminds me to look for the hard-packed place in my life, the places where I am set in my ways and resistant to change. Tilling reminds me to uproot the worldly ways that have crept into my life; to make room for the seeds God is planting. Tilling reminds me that traumatic upheaval may be God’s way of preparing me for growth.

See now, I am for you; I will turn to you, and you will be tilled and sown. Ezekiel 36:9.

No-till gardens are now in vogue. If I don’t let my garden revert to yard, I shouldn’t need to till in the spring. The argument is that tilling disrupts the beneficial activity in the soil as well as the detrimental (weeds).

Could it be laziness in disguise?

Can I keep my garden weed-free and ready for seed without major upheavals?

Can I keep my life focused on God and ready for His call without major upheavals?

I pull back the cardboard and peek. The soil is loose, dark, and weed-free. Cardboard and dead grasses have kept new grasses and weeds from growing. My days of tilling may be over.

But as for you, continue in what you have learned and firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it, and how from childhood you have known the sacred writings that are able to instruct you for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. 2 Timothy 3:14-15.

Perhaps, if I can continue to keep my garden weed-free and ready, I will not need to go through the arduous effort of tilling. Perhaps, if I stay in God’s word and continually apply it to my life, I will not need major upheavals in my life to follow Him.

My plan is to cut out rows in the cardboard for the sugar snap seeds. Give those seeds air and sunlight to grow; deny air and sunlight to the weeds I don’t want to grow.

Planting those seeds is the important thing. Because making my space weed-free does not make it a garden. What makes my space a garden is not what it doesn’t grow, but what it does. A garden produces fruit.

You did not choose me, but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last. John 15:16.

As proud as I may be of eliminating weeds from my garden and obvious sins from my life, a weed-free space is not a garden. A sin-free life is not a life of faith. A faithful life produces fruit.

I am not going to till this year. I will put those seeds in the ground which I prepared for them last year. I am trusting God to grow the fruit.

By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Galatians 5:22.

The dandelion nods her yellow head in agreement.

Gardening can be a humbling experience. I get excited about trying new things, but usually fail at them. Humbling, because, how hard can gardening be? People have been doing it for thousands of years. For millennia, your gardening skills dictated your ability to survive. I fear I wouldn’t have done well!

This year I tried to start a few flowers indoors to transplant into the garden later. Thankfully, I am not trying to start all my plants from seed indoors; the results have been less than stellar.

Fortunately, I do not have to begin with a seed for most of my garden. There are professional gardeners who are considerably better at growing plants than I am. I can rely on their expertise to get the plant off to a healthy start. I can transplant it into my garden and care for it until it matures. For those of us who do not have the time, patience, skills or aptitude to grow everything from scratch, these seedlings are a wonderful gift.

I feel much the same about some Christian writers. What a gift! I do not have to struggle to answer every question by myself. I can rely on their expertise.

Hold to the standard of sound teaching that you have heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. 2 Timothy 1:13

As I plant one tomato plant, I give thanks for Billy Graham, C.S. Lewis, and Charles Stanley, who started my growth. With the second, I give thanks for John Stott and Lee Strobel, who strengthened my faith with sound reasoning. With the third, I thank God for Henri Nouwen and Thomas Merton, who taught me quiet. With each successive plant, I thank the Lord for Martin Luther, John Calvin, St. Augustine, Karl Barth, N.T. Wright, these tremendous people of faith who have given me such a head start on my faith journey.

As I lower my cucumber seedlings into the ground, I think of the lessons of faith under fire taught by Richard Wurmbrand, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Bob Fu, Dan Bauman, Foxe’s Book of Martyrs. Could these hardy cucumbers withstand such persecution? Could I?

With the peppers, I give thanks for the Bible translators and Bible teachers; people like Eugene Peterson, Priscilla Shirer, Max Lucado, Ann Voskamp, and all those who have brought the Word to my living room.

These gifted thinkers, writers, and teachers have provided me with starter plants, seedlings for my garden. What a wonderful thing it is that God can plant their thoughts in my life and let them grow.

From the bed where it was planted, it was transplanted to good soil by abundant waters, so that it might produce branches and bear fruit and become a noble vine. Ezekiel 17:8

Now these plants are my responsibility. God has planted them in my garden. I need to ensure they have what they need – good soil, abundant water, protected space to grow.

As wonderful as these plants are, and so very much better than my attempts at growing from seed, it is not enough to stick them in the ground and ignore them. I need to let them take root and grow. Plants grow in two directions; unseen, they search out every hidden place underground; above ground, they spread their branches and produce fruit. I need to let the wisdom of those who have gone before do the same. I need to let the Word of God do the same.

But as for you, continue in what you have learned and firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it, and how from childhood you have known the sacred writings that are able to instruct you for salvation through faith in Jesus Christ. 2 Timothy 3:15

Today, I am grateful for everyone whose skill and expertise have grown these plants, transported these plants, and made these plants available to me. I am grateful that my garden stands a better chance of being successful because I have started with healthy plants. Let’s get growing!

Betsy

The sweet peas are back in their happy place! Nick and I always planted the sweet peas at the far left end of the garden. The last few years of his life, we didn’t plant them, because we weren’t here in May to harvest them. After his death, I condensed the garden and planted them at the far right end. The creek rose three feet that year, taking most of the plants with it. Last year I moved them out of flood threat, but not to their original location. Crop rotation, you know. They didn’t like that space. This year they are back in their happy place!

What joy it brings me to see them thriving! It has been several years since I have had any sweet peas to harvest, but I am feeling very optimistic about this year!

We all know that we are to bloom where we are planted, make the best of an unpleasant situation, and use every situation as an opportunity to glorify God, but let’s admit it. Most of us have a happy place, a place where growth seems easy and life is good and praise leaps to our lips without effort.

As much as it is in our ability to do so, I think we should put ourselves in our happy place. If hiking in the woods makes you happy, leave the laundry for later and take a walk. If holding that baby fills you with joy, respond to your emails later. If a walk on the beach brings you closer to God, figure out a way to get there.

But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need for only one thing.” Luke 10:41

I have found great joy writing these posts. Actually, I have found great joy thinking about what I am writing in these posts. I have found joy thinking about God and specifically about my relationship with God, my garden, if you will. Thinking about and writing these posts has become a happy place, where I let the other things fade away. There’s many I have written which I may never post, but they are bearing fruit in my life even so.

Do you have a happy place? A place where you feel closer to God, a time when the cares of the world fade in the background and communion with God seems easier? Perhaps it is time with a beloved friend, or quiet time with your spouse. Perhaps just looking at a body of water puts everything in perspective, as it does for me. Perhaps it is a steady jog on a well-known path.

God has filled the earth with happy places for His creation. The sweet peas were not happy in the area where I usually grow cucumbers, nor in the area where I normally grow peppers. They have their own happy place, at the far left end of the garden. The actual place is not nearly as important as the fact that it is where we meet God, commune with Him, worship Him.

Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. … True worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him. John 4:21,23

Sometimes gardening is just such a happy place. Admittedly, sometimes it is a place of hard work, struggle, and frustration. Perhaps there is a lesson here as well. Many of our happy places are not always happy. It takes effort to hike; sometimes the baby screams; sand can be hard to walk in; the words don’t come; friends and spouses argue; storms obscure your view of the water; muscles cramp when you jog. But when I see those glorious sweet peas, somehow, the effort and failures fade into the background.

I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ. Philippians 1:6

May you, like my sweet peas, find your happy place.

Betsy

The garden is ready for its plants.. We had a wonderful time getting it ready. My daughter, son-in-law, and grandbabies, along with my ever helpful brother-in-law, joined me in preparing the space. We took turns caring for the babies as we tilled and raked the garden. We set up a watering system with multiple soaker hoses in addition to the hose for hand watering. We laid down weed barrier cloth and covered it with mulch, finishing the space with landscape timbers. It was an all-afternoon affair. And indescribably easier than trying to do all that by myself!

The sky was cloudless, and the sun was warm. We put a canvas and an umbrella in the yard for the babies, while the adults reveled in the April sunshine and cooling breeze. And between the four adults (the babies didn’t help much!), we got a lot done. It was not all manual labor, although much of it was. I needed to determine what I was planting, where, and how much space it would need. It took three of us to figure out the soaker hose system and get it laid out along the garden. The give and take, the sharing of tasks, the planning and doing – it was like a garden in bloom!

Not only was it a lovely afternoon, but now my garden is ready for the summer plants.

I am excited by my waiting garden; there is a joy in the anticipation of what is coming. My husband used to say that the anticipation of an event was every bit as enjoyable as the actual event: birthday, holiday, vacation.

Anticipation is born of a forward-focus; I am living in the here and now, in April, but I am thinking about and planning for July and September.

I consider that the sufferings of the present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. Romans 8:18

Paul was living in a cell in Rome, but he was thinking about and planning for heaven.

Unlike heaven, of course, with my garden, there is the chance that my anticipation will lead to disappointment instead of fruition. But that is hard to think about as I survey my prepared garden. That space is ready for carrot seeds, tomato plants and cucumber vines.

I go to the garden center and peruse all the options, like a kid in a candy store! Each plant holds such promise. Each plant represents the work of others to get the plants to this point.

It reminds of going to the “Christian Literature” section of a bookstore; so many options!

I know I want indeterminate tomato plants; Lord, guide me to the ones that are best for my garden, my situation, my yard. It’s so exciting to hold this young plant and think about all the possibilities it holds.

God has gifted me with an intrinsic joy in doing something now that will bear fruit only later. Matthew Sleeth, in Reforesting Faith, says this is one beauty of planting a tree; you are planting it for future generations. My garden plants will reach fruition much sooner than a tree, but it is not immediate. I am engaging in an act of faith, taking action now in anticipatory joy of future results.

So the garden is ready. Any day now, the danger of frost will pass, and the seeds and plants can go in the ground.

Be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight. Isaiah 65:18

I am grateful that I had the time to prepare the garden. I am especially grateful that God made what would have been a chore for me into an enjoyable time with family.

What a blessing that God is creating something in this world, in our lives. What joy there is in anticipating His new world.

The one who testifies to these things says, “Surely I am coming soon.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus. Revelations 22:20

Betsy