Category: Summer

When God grows our faith

The Heat

With the sun below the tree line, my garden is pleasant this early in the morning. But my cucumbers tell the story. They are dying under the relentless heat. The soaker hose brings them water every morning and blossoms emerge as the plants struggle to produce. I admire their determination. Perhaps the heat will moderate, and the cucumbers will survive. I wish there was more I could do for them.

As I head indoors, I feel almost guilty. My cucumbers do not have the luxury of coming with me. Due to circumstances beyond their control, the cucumber plants must stay outside under the grueling heat all day. Suddenly I see the woman at the intersection who spends the entire day walking back and forth under the sun with her cardboard sign. Did circumstances beyond her control put her there; keep her there? Did some bad decision twenty years ago make her stand under the sun today?

I don’t walk in my garden in the heat of the day, but many people don’t have the luxury of avoiding the heat. They may work outside. They may live outside.

The topper on my boat was bent during a storm on Father’s Day. Now when I go out on the lake, I go in the morning before it gets too hot, at least until I get the topper fixed. And I spend a lot of time in the water. What if these luxuries were not available to me? Would I be strong enough to stand beside this woman at the intersection for even an hour? Or would I, like my cucumber vines, wither in the heat?

How did our ancestors manage? Were they that much stronger than I am, or did they not have any alternatives? Drought and famine caused Jacob and his family to cross the desert and move to Egypt, caused Naomi to move to Moab and return with Ruth. Economic hardships have brought millions of families to the United States from every continent. I have never faced that level of heat.

But many people face it every day.

Not all my garden suffers. The tomatoes have fruit; the peppers have budding flowers; the basil is thriving. But my cucumbers are hurting.

For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is in Christ…that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it. 1 Corinthians 12:12,25-26.

We have become divided, and some members of our body are suffering. I do not have the answer for this except to pray and care for one another. The cool weather which was good for my sugar snaps would stunt my peppers and tomatoes. The heat which is wilting my cucumbers is encouraging my basil and fig to grow.

I can’t make it cooler for my cucumbers. I am not sure God would want me to if I could. Perhaps my call is simply to do what I am doing. Give them water, give them some added nutrients, do what I can to help them survive the heat. God may have a higher purpose in the heat, drought, and famine. He may be building a nation in exile. He may be bringing Ruth to a new husband. He may be populating a new country with a mix of nationalities. He may be growing new things in His garden.

What I can do is love. Love my garden, love nature, love people, love the church, the body of Christ.

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful. It does not rejoice in wrongdoing but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 1 Corinthians 13:4-7.

I will strive today to not demand my own way, to not be irritable and resentful, to endure all things. Even the heat.

Love in Christ, Betsy

What do I see?

The hour is early, and dew still covers the grass. The sun peeks through the tree line. Soon it will crest the woods and fix its burning gaze on my plants, but for now I can walk my garden in long sleeves. The soaker hose is bringing life-sustaining water, and the plants seem to be enjoying this morning respite from the heat as much as I do.

I approach my tomatoes with trepidation. Are they still there, or has some thief in the night come and stole them? With relief I see the green orbs still attached to their branches. I have yet to harvest a red tomato this year. The heat is crippling my cucumber vines. Each morning, I peruse these plants and harvest nothing. The empty harvest feels personal.

Is there more I should be doing? Did I make a critical mistake earlier? If so, can I correct it? Am I letting other distractions take precedence over my garden? Have I overestimated my abilities as a gardener?

I turn my attention to the basil bush. Bursting with leaves and perfuming the air, it calls for me to reap its bounty. I have pulled up all the garlic and processed it. Peeled, minced and frozen dozens of cloves which are now ready to be used when needed. This may well be the summer of pesto, served with pasta since I have no tomatoes.

The fig and the raspberry grow large and healthy, and my sense of failure begins to ease.

How good God is to give us different plants that fail or thrive in different seasons and in different climates. Biodiversity. If I had only grown cucumbers this year, the heat would have felled my entire crop. If I had only grown tomatoes, the fear of no harvest might be crippling. It could well be that that this is just a year for other things to grow.

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the sane Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good, 1 Corinthians 12:4-7.

God is working on me to go out to the garden in expectations of a harvest, in gratitude for what is growing, in praise of His provision. There are green tomatoes on the vine. There is abundant basil. There are blossoms on the pepper plants. It is only mid-July.

I pull some of the weeds that are encroaching on the raspberry bush while the ground is still damp. This I can do. I can keep the weeds from overtaking the plants, even if I can’t keep them out of the garden. I can check the netting for gaps, sprinkle hot sauce around the plants, and try to discourage invaders.

I lift my head and listen to the birds. A small bunny darts from the hedgerow, sees me, and darts back under cover. Bees hover over the clover nearby, and a wasp lands on the pine bark mulch. My yard is alive in the early hours. Soon it will be too hot to spend much time here.

I let the garden, nature, God, speak to my fearful and fretful spirit.

Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen. Ephesians 3:20-21.

There is a lot of work I can and should do in my garden, but the harvest is ultimately the Lord’s. This is His garden, not mine. I am called to care for His creation and love as He loved, tirelessly, sacrificially, and unselfishly. He is able to accomplish… anything, creation with a word.

My role is to love and serve and look to Him.

Betsy

Netting

I lost a tomato the other day. One day it was on the vine; the next it was gone. Despite the marigolds. Time to take defensive actions.

There’s a wonderful movie, Biggest Little Farm, about a couple who bring natural predators onto their farm to combat threats to their crops. Ducks to combat snails; dogs to combat coyotes; owls to combat gophers. After seven years, their farm is in balance, and they harvest a crop.

I’m not that patient or that eager to invite predators into my yard. Instead, I covered my tomato plants with netting and doused the ground with hot sauce.

Netting is tricky. It catches on everything – sticks, weeds, buttons, watches, glasses. Nick had erected metal poles for the netting, allowing the plants to grow tall under the fabric. Each bolt snags the fine mesh.

Two years ago, most of my tomatoes were stolen by critters, even with the bird netting. Between the marigolds and the hot sauce, I am praying the critters find easier dining. That summer, a dispute with a friend had robbed me of my peace just as the squirrels had robbed the garden. In God’s clever way, He is reminding me once again how I often let circumstances rob me of my peace.

Peace and joy and love are fruits of the Holy Spirit, brought to fruition by His presence in my life. When I let circumstances rob me of His fruit, I am throwing away my past growth and efforts as well as depriving the larger world of His gifts. It may take work, but I need to conscientiously protect the tomatoes in my garden and His fruit in my life.

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil…. take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. Ephesians 6:10-17.

Our shields can be tricky and our swords awkward. My faith catches on my emotions, my friendships, my concerns. I wonder if I am doing life “right.” Sometimes I wonder if there is a right way, a right side to be on when people disagree. Because people will disagree. Even good-hearted, God-fearing, walking-the-walk Christians.

For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. 1 Corinthians 2:2.

The netting I can put over the fruit growing in my life is scripture. Daily immersion in and meditation on the Word of God. Daily prayer and stillness. Giving all my roiling emotions into the Lord’s hands and asking for His guidance.

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.

Jesus’s love for others angered people, even good-hearted, God-fearing, walking-the-walk people. He touched lepers and ate with sinners and spoke to Samaritan women. Am I that loving? Do I love just as Jesus has loved me?

I lost a tomato yesterday. I lost my peace and joy as well. If your garden is suffering as well, join me in protecting the fruit of the Spirit. Join me in learning to love as Jesus loved.

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit with in me. Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me, Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit. Psalm 51:10-12.

Love in Christ, Betsy

In Secret

The tall green stalks are brown and falling to the ground. It is too hot, and they are too old to stand tall and green any longer.

This is good news. These dying plants means the garlic bulbs are ready to harvest.

When I planted the cloves last fall, the instructions indicated that they would sleep all winter, start to grow in the spring and be ready for harvest in late summer. I think they were written for a different climate. My garlic grew all winter. Now they have reached maturity.

Our warmer weather has left me with smaller garlic bulbs than might have grown further north, but they have grown. A bulb of four or five cloves for each single clove I buried. And all with very little effort on my part.

I couldn’t even see the growth happening. Unlike the rest of my garden, this garlic grew in secret.

In happens that way in life sometimes. We can’t see what is happening out of sight. What we do see, the tall green stalks, may wither and die. It is not until we uproot the plant that we discover the delicious reward that God has given us in secret.

But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. Matthew 6:6.

The growth on my tomatoes is obvious. They are taller, dotted with blossoms, yielding green fruit that is getting larger and lighter by the day. Sometimes life is like that as well. The rewards for our effort seem instantaneous, obvious. Sometimes, God’s Spirit nudges us to action, and when we act, joy erupts. We make that call; the person needed to hear from someone. They are happy; we are happy. Everyone involved is blessed by the presence of God in the little things of life.

But sometimes life is more like the garlic bulbs. It doesn’t look good. It looks like a dying plant. The good news comes in the uprooting.

I pull up the first bulb. The ground releases it easily. The bite of garlic fills my nose, mixed with a hint of wet soil. What a beautiful sight!

Beside it grows the basil, and as I pinch off the maturing leaves, I know pesto in in my future.

My mouth waters in anticipation.

God is planning a marvelous feast for us. Some of the ingredients are bright and beautiful and out in the light for all to see. Like my tomatoes and pepper, they thrive on the sunlight and show their bright colors proudly. Some parts of the feast, like the basil, fill the air with their sweet aroma. And some are being grown in secret, out of sight, waiting for the day when God reveals them.

When I look at my garden, I see the marvelous diversity and inclusiveness of God. He created so many different plants that bless us in so many ways. Some with luscious fruit, some with edible roots, some with tasty leaves. And the best recipes combine them.

I mix the garlic and basil from my garden with the nuts and olive oil from someone else’s garden and add cheese some cow provided. I was given a new food processor for Christmas and the pesto-making is easy. What wonderful gifts! What an amazing example of how the world can work together to produce something marvelous.

The garlic reminds me to never underestimate what God is doing in secret, out of my sight.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts higher than your thoughts. For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish the thing which I purpose, and succeed in the thing for which I sent it. Isaiah 55:8-11.

Betsy

Faithfulness

Faithfulness dictates that I go out to the garden every morning, whether I feel like it or not. Faithfulness means I pull weeds even though it hurts my hands and wrists and shoulders. Faithfulness leads me to water the garden every day it doesn’t rain, even when I want to be doing something else. Faithfulness leads me daily to carefully rearrange growing branches so that they will be supported.

I do these activities because I have faith that they will lead to healthier, more productive plants. These are the daily little activities that constitute gardening. Sure, there are big activities like fencing and planting and managing the harvest, but these little, daily tasks are what ensure the garden thrives.

How like God to encourage and reward our daily little acts of faithfulness.

Life is full of daily little things that enhance our lives and keep us healthy. Brush your teeth; wash your hands; clean the dishes; wash your clothes. Often these daily little tasks exhaust us – not because they are difficult but because they are tedious and repetitive and endless. Their reward is rarely obvious. Our only motivation is what happens if we don’t do them.

My teeth rot: my family falls sick; roaches and mice infest my kitchen; I’m wearing stained and smelly clothes. The weeds overtake my plants; my cucumbers die from lack of water; the tomato branches break off under the weight of any fruit they grow.

There are consequences to a lack of faithfulness in the small things.

Am I reading God’s Word every day? Am I spending time in quiet prayer with Him? Am I thanking God for all the wonderful things He has gifted to us? Sunshine and rain and friends and family and homes and cars and electricity and food? Am I allowing His Spirit space to grow in me? Am I watering and supporting that growth?

His master said to him, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things, enter into the joy of your master.” Matthew 25:21.

Experience and science have long taught us that we adapt to our surroundings. Spouses tend to look like each other after a while; employees dress like their boss; animals evolve camouflaging colors and snouts and beaks for better dining. I wonder if we could adapt to better reflect Jesus if we spent more time with him. If I spent hours with Him every day, would I begin to talk like Him? React like Him? Love like He loves?

My daily treks to the garden, my constant exposure to growing plants, has taught me things that google can’t. Being in the garden every day turns my knowledge into a reality that I can touch and feel and smell. Knowing about gardening is not the same as gardening. Knowing about God is not the same as knowing God.

You have to DO it. Do the little tasks that faithfulness demands. Faithfulness can feel tedious. Faithfulness calls us to action when our emotions prefer inaction. Water the plants, pull the weeds, brush your teeth, wash the dishes, read the Bible, get on your knees. Being faithful in these little things brings us face to face with the world we envision – the fruitful garden, the healthy home, the presence of God’s Spirit.

And as we draw closer, as we spend time on faithful tasks, we begin to embody that vision and move closer to making it real.

And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though 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 Corinthians 3:18.

Brush your teeth today, wash the dishes and thank God for all that He is doing for you. Be faithful and enter into His joy. Look to God, and seeing Him, be transformed into His image.

Betsy

Weeds

Tiny tomatoes dot my plants and blossoms cover my cucumbers, but I feel like a failure.

It’s the weeds. They ring my garden along the fence line and stretch across the cardboard and mulch. These hardy little invaders have burst through the inches of open space between the cardboard and the fence and the landscape timbers. They have overtaken the dying sugar snaps and are threatening the rest of the garden.

How have I let this happen? How did I let weeds overtake my garden?

Should I have tilled? Am I too lazy or weak? Have I spent too much time on other pursuits? Am I a neglectful gardener? Am I simply a bad gardener? Am I a failure?

How can I post a picture of my garden when all anyone will see is my weeds, my weakness?

I am tempted to throw up my hands in defeat.

But I don’t.

I don’t think that is what God wants us to do when the weeds are invading.

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. Ephesians 6:10-11.

I think God wants me to learn how to fight the weeds in my garden, the weeds in my life. He is showing me how sin can creep into my life and threaten to overtake the good fruit He is growing. While I am spending time on other pursuits, when I am feeling tired and weak, in the cracks in my faith, sin is creeping in and stretching across my life.

It would be easy to just throw up my hands in defeat. But I don’t think that is what God wants me to do.

Remember the old adage? The only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time. I pull on my garden gloves and take a bite. I will have to commit to doing this all summer. By the time I am through the garden, weeds will have reappeared in the area I weeded first. The level of commitment needed to combat the weeds scares me. It looks like too big of a problem. It feels like too big of a commitment. Those thoughts of failure creep back in.

Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so the power of Christ may dwell in me. 2 Corinthians 12:9.

Not exactly Instagram ready, all these weeds, all this weakness. Or maybe it is. Maybe admitting my weakness, my failure, allows someone else to admit theirs. At the very least, such admission gives us the space to be less than perfect. The crazy thing is that I still want to put a picture of a beautiful weed-free garden along with this post. But all the pictures of my garden have weeds in them, because my garden has weeds. Maybe every picture of my life reveals weeds as well.

I am committed to weeding a section of the garden every morning. Rain and overnight dew make it easier, allowing the ground to release the weed with less effort on my part. I often think of water as prayer and the metaphor holds for weeds. Prayer certainly makes removing the weeds from my life easier!

Maybe all my battling with weeds is a way of training me for bigger battles. Perhaps these weeds are training me to not give up, to persevere, to trust in God to give me the strength. Because as followers of Jesus, we will face battles with forces stronger than weeds. Perhaps instead of feeling like a failure, I will be grateful for the training.

Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 1 Thessalonians 5:18.

Betsy

Beauty and Grief

The morning sun lights up the cloudless blue sky. Masses of tall trees covered in green leaves fill the horizon. Tidy yards of cut green grass border the bottom of my view. It is a beautiful day. But I sit in my chair and cry.

Five years ago, I spent this day in hospice holding my husband’s hand as he took his last breath. I have relived that moment a million times and I relive it now.

The pain radiates from my heart to my throat to my eyes, blocking the beautiful views out my window.

The trill of birdsong makes me lift my head and open my eyes. It is a beautiful world out there. Nick is enjoying beauty beyond compare in his heavenly home. I am sure he would want me to enjoy the beauty God gives us here on earth.

And the garden is calling.

The plants are growing so rapidly now. Every day they are taller and fuller, and blossoms and fruit appear. Their branches need to be lifted and rested on the supports. Weeds need to be pulled. The June sun is sapping the moisture from the ground, and I need to replenish it. How selfish of me to sit in my chair and cry.

As I have adapted to life without Nick, these days come less and less often, these days when life feels almost pointless without him, but they still come.

God’s Spirit gently reminds me that as much as I loved Nick, he was never the point, the purpose of my life. God is.

And God is with me now just as He was when Nick lived. God put me here for a purpose, and God keeps me here for a purpose.

For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life. Ephesians 2:10.

I don’t always know what specific good works God has prepared for me, but I know He commands me to love, to share His love with every person I encounter. I admit I have not always done so. I confess I still find this challenging at times. Such a simple command, and yet it sits in opposition to my “me first” mentality. Even now, as I wallow in my chair, it is easier to focus on my pain and my needs then to act in love toward those around me who are hurting and need to sense God’s love.

But God’s call to love one another is enough to get me out of my chair. There are people to call, household chores that need addressing, mail that needs a response. And a garden that needs tending.

I read the scriptures listed for today, spend some time in prayer, and read a short devotional. Then I slip on my garden shoes and head outside.

The sun is shining brightly in the crisp blue sky. Green trees surround my yard, and the babble of the creek sings in the background. Birds fly across the ground and search the green grass for worms. It is a beautiful day.

God loves me. God loves you. With His Spirit’s help and in His name, I love you as well, even if we have never met. What an amazing world God has gifted us to show us how much He loves us – plants and animals and sunshine and rain and beauty all around us.

See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. 1 John 3:1.

I am sure my sad days are not over. I will always miss Nick. But God has provided me with a beautiful world, wonderful friends and family, and opportunities to share His love. If you too are sad today, listen for the trill of a bird nearby and lift your eyes to the beauty and love around you.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Nothing Remains The Same

Old age and high temperatures have taken their toll on my sugar snaps. I waited to plant some of my seeds until mid-March, so I might have sugar snaps in June, but it is too warm for them now. Their time has passed. Now, all my attention needs to go to the rest of my garden.

My tomato plants are sporting yellow flowers, promising red fruit in the future. Tiny green orbs are dotting my pepper plants. The cucumbers are claiming the space provided. My garden is growing. Even the fig and raspberry bushes are gaining height and sprouting new leaves, perfumed by the basil nearby.

Whenever I hear something that begins with “If things stay this way,” the gardener in me laughs. Things never stay the same. Nothing ever stays the way it is. God created His universe to be in a constant state of change. Even things that seem permanent to us like mountains and oceans are constantly changing incrementally. We know this. We have known this since childhood. And yet we still strive for permanence.

We strive to make things perfect in some delusion that they might stay that way. We build homes and offices to withstand storms, but we know they are not truly permanent. Ruins from civilizations long gone remind us that structures may outlast their inhabitants, but they will not remain the same.

The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever. Isaiah 40:8.

We long for that permanence like we long for the tree that produces fruit year-round. Because God has planted that image in our soul, an image of lasting permanence, an image of eternity, an image of Himself.

And He reminds me that I cannot achieve this by my own efforts on this earth. He reminds me of this every day as I walk along the garden and see how it has changed since yesterday.

There is a time for everything. It was true when Solomon said it, and it is true today.

I am not going to fret over the loss of my sugar snaps. They had a glorious season, but it is time for other fruits to shine. I will pull a garlic bulb soon to see how they are doing. Little green tomatoes will ripen into red ones. The cucumbers will continue to indulge their appetite for space.

And while I wait for all these changes, I will water and tend my garden daily. I will treasure this garden for bringing me outside every day. I may even pull the weeds that create a border around my growing plants.

These plants remind me that change is not always a bad thing. I do not want my garden to stay as it is right now, as beautiful as it is to me. I want my plants to age and bear fruit, even if it signals their impending death. That is these plants’ purpose.

I don’t want to stay the same forever either. I want to grow and mature and bear fruit, even as I know I am moving ever closer to my demise. I may live thirty more years; I may die today. God cares for me no matter my life span. He loves me and has put me here for a purpose. He loves you and has put you here for a purpose.

For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God – not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God has prepared before hand to be our way of life. Ephesians 2:8-10.

And that word of God does remain the same, remains as true today as it was when it was written.

O give thanks to the God of heaven, for his steadfast love endures forever. Psalm 136:26.

Betsy

Trial and Error

I tried something new in my garden this year. Actually, I tried several new things in my garden this year, but right now I am thinking about the Ruby Kisses.

According to the seed catalogue, coreopsis, aka Ruby Kiss, is one of the most squirrel repellent flowers available. After losing most of my tomatoes to squirrels and chipmunks last year, I was in for adding these lovely sounding plants to my garden.

The problems started when the seed packet arrived. For some reason I can’t now recall, I started these flowers in trays on my kitchen table. Surely I did not read that I should start these flowers this way – what a disaster! After purchasing seed trays and potting soil, I dutifully surrendered my kitchen table to the process. Soon, towels also covered my table, to protect it from the excess or errant water and ever-present dirt. Most didn’t come up, but little green sprouts crowded a few of the pots. So I got some larger pots, biodegradable ones that I could put right in the soil when the time came. I only killed about half the plants in the transplanting process.

By the time I was ready to plant my tomatoes, I had about 8 two-inch tall plants to add to my garden. Definitely not worth the effort and mess. I would buy some marigolds when I bought the tomatoes. Although not as effective, according to google, they were pretty and available and mostly grown, so I bought the marigolds.

Just for kicks, I also planted my struggling Ruby Kiss seedlings in among the tomatoes and marigolds. I mean, why not?

Now it’s hard to tell if I am growing tomatoes or wildflowers. No squirrels, but what a mess!

The beauty of a garden is that I now know not to pursue Ruby Kisses in the future.

If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 1 John 1:9.

Sometimes, I just have to learn things the hard way, by trial and error.

You know what else, besides Ruby Kisses, that is not good for my garden? Resentment. I had to learn that one the hard way, too. I had nurtured it along, feeling it was justified; transplanted it into bigger pots like my family and friends; spilled dirt all over my kitchen table. What a mess. Just have to dig that up and never plant it again.

Condescension is a lot like Ruby Kisses as well. I sense it will protect me, but soon it is overshadowing my fruit. When others look at my garden, is that all they see? Maybe a tomato hidden in there somewhere?

The beauty of the life, and particularly life with Christ, is that we get a new garden every day.

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my thoughts. See if there is any wicked way in me and lead me in the way everlasting. Psalm 139:23-24.

Perhaps, instead of trying to justify why I am growing Ruby Kisses in my garden, I should be grateful for the lesson learned. Instead of feeling guilty about my errors, I should simply uproot the plant and move forward; see this as a learning moment (a test?). Have I let sin grow in my life just as I have let Ruby Kisses grow in my garden? How much more lovely would my garden be if I could just admit it and move on?

What a gift that God allows us to try and fail. What a gift that God gives us the opportunity to try again, to have a re-do, a make-up test. What a difference it would make if I could look at test results and see not where I failed, but where I could improve.

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. Psalm 51:10.

God loves us. We do not need to have a perfect garden for Him to love us; He already does.

We do not need to ace a test; I think we never will this side of heaven. God wants what is best for us. He wants to grow joy and peace and love in our gardens, in our lives. If we mess up occasionally and plant some Ruby Kisses, He forgives us. I’ve learned my lesson. Thank You, Lord.

Betsy

Worth the Effort

What a decision I have to make today – shall I make a sandwich from the tomato or the cucumber? Maybe both! Few things can compare to the incredible flavor of a homegrown tomato, topped with a little fresh cut basil. But the crisp sweetness of a cucumber just off the vine comes close. I feel wealthy having such delicious options.

The scent of basil on my hands decides for me; tomato it is. I may try the basil on a cucumber if I am still hungry. Such wealth.

I remember how much work it took getting the garden tilled and fenced. I remember sweating in the heat, arms and back aching, as I planted each little seedling. I gaze at the metal poles supporting the bird netting and remember Nick’s labor to erect them.

Was it worth it? Yes!!!

Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain. I Corinthians 15:58.

I do not claim to “excel” in gardening, or much of anything else for that matter. But God has granted me the gift of persistence; a willingness to keep at it and see it through. Much of that comes from faith, a conviction that if I am doing what God is calling me to do and listening to His voice, my labor will not be in vain. 

And walking in God’s will can be labor. It can be physical labor, like the garden. It can be emotional labor, like forgiveness and reconciliation. You may be exhausted and sweating. Sometimes it is easier to just sleep in instead of going to church. Sometimes I would rather binge watch stupid TV than make those phone calls or write those letters.

Those who till their land will have plenty of food, but those who follow worthless pursuits have no sense. Proverbs 12:11.

Then I look at these tomatoes and cucumbers. I know that this fruit was worth the effort.

The fruit of the Spirit is worth the effort as well. Knowing that God will grow gentleness and patience in my life is worth making time every morning to read His Word. His peace and joy are worth spending time every day in prayer, presenting my concerns and listening for His response.

If I spend my time in worthless pursuits, His fruit may not be able to grow in my life; I will not have given Him the space and time to grow it. And His fruit, wow! What would my life, your life, our city, our world look if it looked like my table, covered in fruit?

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

I want that fruit every bit as much as I want these tomatoes and cucumbers. Even if it takes effort on my part. Even if giving the Spirit space to grow this fruit disrupts my plans or unsettles my easy way of life. I may need to uproot some weeds and plant some good seeds. It may be hard. But the harvest is worth the effort.

When I feel kindness growing where once criticism flourished, I know being in His presence was worth the effort. When I can react in gentleness instead of anger, I am looking at His fruit in my life. When helping someone in need brings me more joy than a rising bank balance, I know God is growing something eternal in my heart.

Do not store up for yourselves treasure on earth …, but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven. Matthew 6:19.

Now that is wealth. If these tomatoes and cucumbers can make me feel wealthy, what do treasures in heaven make me? Wealthy indeed! Such wonderful flavors, such pleasing scents, such delicious abundance. 

O taste and see that the Lord is good. Psalm 34:8.

What wonders of God’s riches will I enjoy today?

Betsy