Category: Spring

When God brings our world back to life

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

Let it Rain.

God is watering my garden today.

A gentle rain soaks all the seeds in the ground, refills the hidden aquifers deep in the soil, encourages all the trees and bushes and flowers and grasses to grow, as well as the plants in my garden.

What an amazing gift God gives us and the earth for the sustaining of life.

We take rain so for granted; sometimes we even complain about it. Sometimes this life-giving rain can take lives as well, but we know without it there would be no life.

But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven, for he makes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. Matthew 5:45.

God wants us all to live, my sugar snaps and the crabgrass that grows beside them. He sends sun and rain on them both.

He calls for us to be just as generous with our affections, to not reserve our prayers only for those with whom we agree, our friends, and our families. God loves all people and sends life-giving water to sustain us all.

I love the rain, probably because I love water. Living in a flood plain, I am aware of the problems rain can cause, and yet… these creeks which can overflow attract wildlife and create beauty. Large trees, homes for birds and raccoons and squirrels, reach through the soil to find the flowing creek beds. Frogs and minnows dart in the shallows. The gentle gurgle and lapping meet me as I leave my home.

All because God is watering my garden today. All because He loves us enough to create a world in which water falls from the sky.

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.

Without water, my garden couldn’t survive. I have gone out the last few days and watered the sugar snaps, the garlic, the fig and raspberry shoots. How wonderful that God is watering them today, as well as watering the rest of my yard as well. What a joy to see everything turning green, filled with a desire to grow, to flower, to bear fruit.

Could this rain refresh me, encourage me to grow and flower?

I drink a lot of water, have ever since I was a child. It sustains me, it may keep my healthy, but it only provides for my corporal needs.

Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” John 4:13-14.

Better than a gentle soaking rain. Better than a flowing creek. A source of life unlike any other found on earth. A source of purposeful, meaningful, joy-filled, eternal life. Springing up in me.

We join with the Samaritan woman in asking “Where do you get this water?” (John 4:11)

On the last day of the festival, the great day, while Jesus was standing there, he cried out, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, ‘Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.’” John 7:37-38.

God is watering my garden today; His word is watering my thoughts; His Spirit is watering my soul, creating life in me.

Let it rain!

Betsy

Good News!

God did it! Sugar snaps have burst from their shell and are reaching for the sun!

Why did I doubt? Why was I worried?

God gifted those seeds with the impulse to grow. Even in their dried-out, lifeless state, inside they held the desire to become more. I just had to give them the chance, the opportunity.

I planted these seeds the first week of March. They have overcome the crabgrass roots, dried clippings, and the cardboard. They have grown without me tilling the soil. In this week before Easter, I praise God for bringing life when I doubted He could. How amazing is our God!

I was focused on what could go wrong and forgot what joy God gives us in His creation.

In there world you will have tribulation. But take heart: I have overcome the world. John 16:33 (ESV)

The sugar snaps overcome the crabgrass; Jesus overcame the pharisees, overcame the Romans, overcame sin, and overcame death.

It’s Holy Week. Jesus had entered Jerusalem to praise and adulation, but He knew what was coming. Violence, abuse, betrayal, abandonment, and death; emotional, physical, and spiritual torture. Followed by the greatest gift of grace and power and love ever bestowed on humanity. He suffers with us; He rises to re-write our lives.

Seeds sprouting and becoming plants is old news. It happens all the time. Nothing new here; move on.

But wait! A lifeless, old, dried out kernel was buried, and now it’s a living plant! What an amazing transformation, life-altering, life-giving, inspirational.

God does it. God does it all the time.

God transforms seeds. God transforms marriages. God transforms congregations. God transforms cities and nations. God transforms people. God transforms me and you.

And all if us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit. 2 Cointhians 3:18.

If you are looking at God and seeing His glory, He is transforming you into His likeness. God has put within you the desire to break out of your shell and reach for Him.

Sometimes, we may need to sit in the dirt for a while before He transforms us. God has created nature in such a way that seeds grow out of dirt; perhaps He created us in such a way as well.

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

This Holy Week, the seeds I planted lost their lives as seeds, and have become what they were intended to be, beautiful sugar snap plants.

I don’t want to stay a seed either. I want to grow and bear fruit. That may take some radical altering of my life. If God calls me to change the life I am now living, am I willing to give it up?

I will listen for His voice. He loves me. He loves me so much that He endured this week of unbelievable distress and suffering just to call me sister. He lost His earthly life for me, for you.

But to all who received him, who believed in his name. he gave the 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.

Good News!

God did it!

Happy Easter, Betsy

Your Move, God

The sugar snap seeds are in the ground. The ball is in the air; will it go in the basket?

I cut rows out of the cardboard and swathes of dead grasses in roughly half of the allotted space. I buried the seeds in the dark, moist soil, waited ten days, and repeated the process for the rest of the space.

Will they grow?

To encourage their growth, I watered the seeds immediately. To protect the seeds from birds, I erected the bean poles and cages. Now I wait. Stare at the ground, move the cardboard strips slightly to the right, slightly to the left, clear the path for any emerging plants, hope the plants are sugar snaps.

When I planted the seeds, the soil was laced with crabgrass roots. They weren’t finding space to send forth shoots but reaching across my garden to grow beside it. Tilling would have disrupted, cut, and severed these roots. In my no-till garden, I must wait to see if my sugar snaps can overcome them. I must trust the benefits of not tilling outweigh the risks.

I’m a little scared. Isn’t that silly?

I have had sugar snap crops fail before; my world didn’t end. The flooding creek, overpowering weeds, and bad soil have all led to failed sugar snap crops. Nick and I didn’t even plant sugar snaps when we chose to travel during harvest time. Yet, I so want these to survive, thrive, succeed.

The sugar snaps are in the ground, Lord. It’s Your move now.

Only God through His life-sustaining natural processes can transform a seed into a plant. Each green shoot that bursts forth from its shell is a tiny miracle, one I will wait for with anticipation.

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. Mark 4:26-27.

Is God growing something in my life, in your life, right now? Have you planted seeds and fear the outcome? What if the obstacles are too great? What if the weeds overtake? Should I have done something else, something new, something old? What if I fail?

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. Psalm 41:10.

Even if I do fail. Even if the sugar snaps don’t take, don’t grow, don’t thrive, God is with me, and I need not fear.

I have faith that God is in charge whether my sugar snaps succeed or fail, whether I succeed or fail. I will do my best, give my best, but His plan is the one that matters. I will water those seeds daily, limit the obstacles in their path, and protect them from predators. Their growth is up to God.

Those little seeds will face challenges. Crabgrass roots crisscross their home, birds watch for the opportunity to snatch them, both cold and heat will assail them. But God has put a desire inside them to transform into all that He designed them to be.

God has put that desire in inside me as well. I also want to transform into all that God designed me to be. I want to break from this shell, grow roots, reach for the sun, and bear fruit. I will face challenges, challenges which will make me stronger if I hold onto my faith.

My brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance, and let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1:3-4.

My challenge today is to not be anxious or worry about my sugar snaps.

The sugar snap seeds are in the ground. It’s your move, God.

Betsy

Beauty

I planned to write about planting sugar snap seeds, but the beauty of this tree won’t wait.

What a gift God gives us with Japanese Magnolias! Gorgeous pinks and reds, delicate petals, poignant fragrance that greets me each time I step outside.

My yard is littered with the fragile blossoms already fallen in the breeze. They drift over my house and dot my front yard. I wish whoever planted this tree had planted her in the middle of a field for all to see. Tucked in this tiny space, she has blessed my family for years.

What beauty! Isn’t God amazing to create such rich colors and scents? And gift us with the ability to appreciate, admire, and revel in them?

You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created. Revelation 4:11.

Amazing how this beauty elevates my mood. My eyes widen, a smile cracks my face, I take deep breaths and laugh more. Beauty brings me joy. Even on a cloudy day with chilly, misting rain, this tree is like a small sun radiating light. And we who behold it carry that light with us into the world.

This tree is a little of God’s character shining into the darkness.

I was driving the other day and had to stop the car. A row of Bradford Pears in full bloom hugged the road. Stunning beauty. Like giant bridal bouquets of startling white flowers set on the ground.

These beauties have appeared suddenly throughout my neighborhood, the tips of white showing around corners, through fences, in distant yards.

The once random dots of yellow daffodils and jonquils have become fields of golden laughter.

O send out your light and your truth; let them lead me; let them bring me to your holy hill and to your dwelling. Then I will go to the altar of God, to God my exceeding joy; and I will praise you with the harp, O God, my God. Psalm 43:4-5.

I cannot help but praise God with joy for these gifts of beauty; they are lights that lead me right back to Him and usher in His presence. What are my worries and frustrations compared to the beauty that surrounds me?

How can I doubt the goodness of God when He creates such beauty? Not only does it bless us today, but it generates the seeds of future beauty, creating an ever more beautiful world around us if we let it.

I am grateful that this tree stopped me this morning. She called for me to set aside my to-do list and appreciate her presence. I am so glad I did.

This beauty is fleeting. Tomorrow, all the petals may fall. Tomorrow, green leaves may replace the pinks and reds and whites. It may snow and cover it all. Today, I need to stop and appreciate this beauty.

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.

The sugar snaps seeds will still be in the ground next week.

Betsy

The No-Till Garden

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.

First Fruits

The sweet peas are in! What a cause for celebration!

While the rest of my garden plants are establishing their roots and bringing forth new leaves, these beautiful plants are filling my basket with abundance.

These are the first fruits of my garden.

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

Moses established an annual celebration for the people of God to thank the Lord for His provision and celebrate with those who couldn’t provide for themselves (The Levites and aliens had no land and so no crops). I shared mine with some Christian women with no gardens, and our church staff (modern day Levites).

I love that my peas ripen during the period the Jews celebrate as the Festival of Weeks, the 7 weeks between Passover and Pentecost. When exactly one makes the first fruit offering during this period is unclear. Many have it occur on the first day of the week after Passover – that would be Easter Sunday.

But in fact, Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have died. I Corinthians 15:20

But one could make their first fruits offering any time during the seven weeks, even as late as Pentecost, when Jews celebrated the gift of the Law in addition to the gift of fruit. Pentecost, when God gave us the gift of the Holy Spirit as well.

We ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. Romans 8:23

So Christ is the first fruit, and we who abide in Him are also first fruits. What a cause for celebration! The Lord our God has certainly provided all that we need!

Since I can’t share my sweet peas with you online, I want to share something else. God provides for us and asks that we share His provision with others. That certainly refers to His physical provision, but I think it also refers to His spiritual provision. We are to tell our stories.

What a Wonderful God

I am a woman, come down from the mountain to tell my story, a story of the majesty and wonder of God. How glorious it is on the mountain! Surrounded by endless sky, the stars seem close enough to touch. Pure crisp air fills the lungs; and the joy of God’s presences fills my soul. He takes my hand and leads me.

               What a wonderful God He is, to bring me to this place, to show me His glory, to call me by name. What a wonderful God!

I am a woman, come up from the pit to tell you my story, a story of the grace and mercy of God. How gentle He is with my pain, how tender He is as I weep from my heart. He comforts me as my guilt and doubt and fear shred me to pieces. His presence heals my wounds. He takes my hand and leads me.

               What a wonderful God He is, to bring me out of this place, to show me His gracious love, to call me by name. What a wonderful God!

I am a woman, come across the plain to tell my story, a story of the support and providence of God. He provides fresh water and rest along the way. He keeps me on the path and carries my load. Troubled by hidden rocks, encouraged by fragrant flowers, wearied by the endless vistas, He whispers, “There is better ahead.” He takes my hand and leads me.

               What a wonderful God He is, to walk with me through this place, to show me His faithfulness, to call me by name. What a wonderful God!

Happy Pentecost, you first fruits of the Spirit! I am grateful for you!

Betsy

A kink in the Hose

It seemed like the perfect day. I could feel the warm sun on my face and the gentle breeze ruffling through my hair. The hedge row was in bloom, sending fragrant scents across the yard. My sweet peas were thriving; my summer plants were growing; moderate temperatures encouraged me to spend the time outside watering my plants by hand.

Then suddenly, no water came through the hose. I was standing there, holding the hose, pressing the handle, but nothing was happening. I turn and look at the hose, stretched out on the ground. Sure enough, it has twisted, creating a kink and blocking the flow of water. Never once did I think that there was no water to be had. The water was there; a kink in the hose was blocking it.

Why, then, when my prayers seem unanswered and my cries seem to fall on deaf ears, do I presume God has turned away and is not listening? Instead of thinking that God has stopped the flow of water, shouldn’t I first look for the blockage on my end?

You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, in order to spend what you get on your pleasures. James 4:3

For the past few weeks, every time I settle into a prayer time, I remember a particular person and think I should reach out to her. For some reason even I can’t explain, I have yet to do so. So this morning, before I prayed, I wrote them a note and put it in the mailbox. It seems pointless to pray for God’s direction when I do not follow the instructions He does give me. Perhaps this small act of obedience will unblock the hose and allow the Spirit a larger presence in my life.

So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, then come and offer your gift. Matthew 5:23-24

God hears every prayer. God stands ready to pour out His presence into our lives. While God can block the flow of water to accomplish His end (think Moses), these seem to be rare occurrences. It seems more likely that we are blocking the flow; we have twisted and constricted ourselves, preventing God from flowing through us.

Consider too that what we ask may be outside God’s plan. God has a much bigger picture than we do; He sees all people at all times in all places. He sees the unseen battles waging amongst us. Would not each of us have prayed that Jesus be spared His misery at the hands of the Roman soldiers? Did not even Jesus pray this? But there was more at stake than Jesus’ health and comfort. Prayer is not about getting God to do what we want Him to do; prayer is not about getting God to do our will.

Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet not what I want, but what you want. Mark 14:36

I shake the hose. When that doesn’t work, I find the twisted spot in the hose and untwist it. I stop wasting time holding a blocked hose and correct the situation so the water will flow. How easy that seems in the garden; how sometimes difficult that seems in my prayer life.

The water flows freely now. The plants are getting their life-giving water. I love to see the blossoms and the fruit on my sweet pea plants. The picture above is of the first blooms on my plants. The sideways growing plants found their way toward the sun and bloomed first, before their fellow plants growing closer together. God is amazing, is He not?

Hopefully, the water is flowing freely in your life. If not, perhaps take a moment today to review your situation and untwist the hose.

Betsy