The frost has turned the brown ground gray, but green shoots are peeking through. Spots of yellow dot the creek banks. Spring is coming.

The seeds in the packet rattle as I shake them.

Will I do this? Can I do this?

I look at my garden, still brown and gray. I can almost see the sugar snaps growing there. Can you see them? Tall and green, reaching for the sun, covered with white blossoms and dangling peas. Can you taste their crisp sweetness?

Shaking the seed packet again, I make my decision. I’m planting these seeds. It will take effort on my part to prepare the ground for a garden. It will take commitment to produce this fruit in my yard, to enable God to produce this fruit in my yard.

But I can see sugar snaps growing where there is only barren ground. I can taste their sweetness. I will do my part to make this vision a reality. I will give God the space needed to turn these seeds into plants, this barren ground into a garden.

Because while vegetables can grow anywhere, a garden is an area intentionally set aside to nurture the growth of fruit.

And I wonder if God could grow His fruit in my life if I only gave Him the space to do so.

You did not choose me, but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last … for I have chosen you out of the world. John 15:16,18.

I look at my life and see worries and frustrations and petty jealousies, worthless activities inspired by a desire to impress others. Could kindness and patience and self-control grow here? Could God grow those things in my life?

Picking up my Bible, I make my decision. I’m planting His seeds. It may well take effort on my part to prepare my life for His presence. It will take commitment to enable God to produce this fruit in my life. But the vison of His love, His peace, His joy growing in my life is just too wonderful to deny.

I want God to turn the barren and frosty ground of my life into a verdant garden bearing sweet fruit. I can almost see me joyful and loving, reaching for the Son. I can almost taste the sweetness. Can you?

Where to start?

I look at my garden, forlorn in the back yard, resting from winter. There is space there waiting for sugar snap seeds. There is space in my life waiting for God’s word.

In the morning, while it was still very dark, He (Jesus) got up and went out to a deserted place, and there He prayed. Mark 1:35.

One year, our ministers challenged the congregation to read the entire Bible in 90 days, the Big Read. The suggested reading path would take 30 to 45 minutes a day, out of 24 hours; the equivalent of an episode of Ozark or Cupcake Wars. Could I spare the time?

What are the things that crowd my day, your day? Are you caring for your kids? Your parents? Your spouse? Yourself? Is your work schedule demanding? What are your priorities? That’s really what it comes down to – what is important to you, what is important to me. 

As for me and my household, we will worship the Lord. Joshua 24:15b.

I can dedicate space in my yard for the sugar snaps. I can dedicate time in my day for Bible study, prayer, and praise. And I am so excited about the expected results!I can almost taste the sugar snaps. Already a smile covers my face, and His warmth is melting the frost.

Betsy

The recent rain had filled my creek with water, awakening the dormant fish eggs hiding beneath the rocks. Enticed by the new life, the heron came to visit. Oblivious to me, the majestic bird concentrated on the water in the creek, looking for a snack sized fish. I hope she found one. I did not have the patience she showed as she stood for long minutes. Watching and waiting. At the beach, when I have fewer tasks at hand, I have seen them stand for hours on the beach waiting for the sunning fisherman to throw a fish back.

I remember when I saw my first heron, back in a hidden cove on the lake. I thought something had escaped from Jurassic Park. When I see them in numbers large enough to flock, my heart thanks God for bringing these graceful and impressive birds back from the brink of extinction.

What a gift to see them in my yard! What a gift to see the hawks and eagles who have returned to our area. What a gift to see the bluebirds and blue jays and cardinals and chickadees and robins who never left. What a gift to hear the little sparrows chattering away and the mockingbirds singing medleys of their favorite tunes.

By the streams the birds of the air have their habitation; they sing among the branches, Psalm 104:12.

Sometimes I stand in wonder at the wildlife that surrounds me. This is the 21^st century. We have computers and cell phones and wifi and AI. But in my yard, I am surrounded by birds and bunnies and squirrels and chipmunks. Racoons and possums and skunks outnumber the people living on my street. Deer and coyote wander through my yard, and foxes have raised their kits here. I know there are mice and moles and voles and a million insects in my yard. I have even seen an armadillo amble across my yard, nose to the ground.

Why do I think this is my yard?

Has not God created every one of these creatures as surely as He has created me? Has He not given this earth, this patch of green, for them to live on as surely as He has given it to me? Does He not care for them as He cares for me?

Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Matthew6:29.

These animals around me call my yard their home. I have grown so used to them being here that I rarely stop to greet them or acknowledge their presence. Only when something unusual happens do I stop and stand in awe, if I happen to be looking and see it.

When the hawk swooped down on the squirrel, when the young bunny approached my docile old cat, when the duck made a nest in my flower bed, when the mother fox barked at me as I neared her hidden kits. Then I stop and give thanks for the vibrant community of animals living in my yard.

Perhaps this yard is more theirs than mine. My efforts run more toward limiting their possession of the space than encouraging it. I feel sometimes as if I am carving out a space for myself in their yard. I know that we as humans need to be good stewards of the land and be kind to all living creatures, but sometimes it feels egotistical to think that these animals in my yard are in any way dependent on me. Sometimes it feels just the opposite. I am amazed at what they teach me. Look at all the different species of birds and mammals and insects that call my yard home! Look how well they share the space, how peacefully they (usually) interact.

I hope you get to go outside today and stand in awe of God’s creation, both plant and animal. The beauty, the variety, the differing functions and personalities, the amazing world that lives in a yard, that surrounds us. What an awesome world; what an awesome God!

Betsy

While some of you may be celebrating this evening with dinner and flowers, I plan to have ashes smeared on my forehead. As a widow, Valentines Day has lost its appeal, but Lent still calls out to me.

My parents observed Lent, so I grew up observing it. We weren’t Catholic, but I sense they recognized their and my need for self-discipline. What were we leaning on, what had we become dependent on, what were we using to fill the holes only God could fill? What had become a habit? If I could loosen its control on me for 40 days, 47 if you count Sundays, then wouldn’t that be a good thing?

I would give up chocolate, or alcohol, or red meat. Sometimes I’d give up computer games. When the urge came upon me to succumb to temptation, I would pray and distract myself with reading the Bible or devotional books. Instead of making me feel holier, it made me twitchy and restless. How dependent I was, and often still are, on these earthly pleasures!

Lent commemorates the period after Jesus’ baptism when the Spirit led him into the wilderness to fast for 40 days. If that were not enough, satan came to tempt Him at the end. All that fasting was training Jesus, strengthening Him to be able to resist satan’s temptations. If Jesus needed to be trained to resist temptation by fasting, don’t I?

I need training to resist temptation. I need practice. I need to put those muscles to work.

Now, disciple always seems painful rather than pleasant at the time, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. Hebrews 12:11

Last year I observed the Jewish Sabbath for Lent, and I am going to do that again. I’m not going to follow all the Hasidic regulations, but I am going to “do no work” and “keep it holy.” (Exodus 31:12-17)

I have found that training my brain to think only thoughts about God and His glory is even more challenging than not eating chocolate. When I clear my mind of thoughts not related to God, sometimes it looks like a barren field, like my garden this time of year. There’s not much left growing there. What a sad and sobering revelation. Am I prepared to spend eternity in the presence of God if I can’t spend an entire day there?

Twitchy and restless.

God is showing me the gaps in my training, my need for discipline, the distance I need to travel to truly be His disciple.

Then he said to them all, “If any of you want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” Luke 9:23.

I think I want to be a disciple of Jesus. I think I follow Him. I know I believe, but even the demons believe (James 2:19). Could I really take up a cross if even a day of rest seems a burden? I need to practice this art of resisting temptation. I need to practice giving up chocolate and alcohol and red meat so perhaps I will be strong enough to give up divisiveness and quarrelling and self-righteousness.

I cannot resist these temptations on my own. I get all twitchy and restless. Only God and His Spirit can give me the strength to abstain from worldly distractions and unholy thoughts.

Submit yourselves to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Draw near to God and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double minded. James 4:7-8.

I don’t want to be double minded. I want to have the mind of Christ (I Cor. 2:16). I want to submit my self to God, cleanse my hands, purify my heart, and draw near to God.

I may be losing chocolate, computer games, and Saturday TV, but look what I am gaining!

Happy Lent!

Betsy

For 30 plus years I have taken down my fencing every fall and let my garden go to grass. In the spring, I tilled the ground and put the fence back up. It was physically demanding work, with rich lessons about preparing the ground for seeds.

Encouraged by new-found knowledge, I am trying a no-till garden this year. I left the fence up; I did not let the garden go to grass. This seems much easier; I am wondering if it is better.

Sometimes God leads us to do things the roundabout, less direct way, the hard way.

When Pharoah let the people go, God did not lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, although that was nearer; for God thought, “if the people face war, they may change their minds and return to Egypt.” So God led the people by the roundabout way of the wilderness toward the Red Sea. Exodus 13:7-8.

Have you ever felt this? Other people seem to have taken a direct path to their destination, and you are over here, wandering around in the wilderness. The path is hard to see, there are hidden rocks and shifting sands, each step seems a struggle. Why am I over here when there is a paved road over there?

Did God really lead me on this path, or have I gone astray?

How difficult and confusing faith can be sometimes. So many different voices, so much advice, it’s challenging to know who to listen to, even when I am trying to listen to God alone. Doubt creeps in.

There is a well-worn path over there that is easy to travel. It feels rather stupid to be over here trudging through brush and briars just because I sense this is where God wants me to be.

Enter though the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few that find it. Matthew 7:13-14.

That well worn path may contain dangers that we can’t see. God does not want us to return to Egypt, to return to slavery, to return to sinful behavior, to return to a life without Him. If we must get off the well-worn path and wander through the wilderness to strengthen our relationship with Him, to learn important lessons about faith and trust, then that is the path that leads to life.

My faith tells me that it is God leading me on this roundabout path through the wilderness. He has things to teach me, things I need to learn. He wants to protect me from enemies and battles until He has prepared me to face them. He does not want me to face battles unprepared and change my mind about following Him.

Can you see it, dear friend? What looks like wandering around in the wilderness is precious time learning to trust God. What lessons He teaches when the work is hard, and the road is challenging. God leads us on the roundabout way and the hard road because there we can learn to lean on Him, His word, His Spirit. There we learn, there we grow, there is life.

The lessons I have learned over the past thirty years from tilling my garden are dear to me. I have learned about ripping deeply held weeds out of my life, turning up hidden rocks and ridding myself of them, breaking up the hard places in my life to allow for God’s word to take root in my life.

But this year, I am trying a no-till garden. It’s an easier path. Because, when we are ready, God leads us out of the wilderness and into the promised land. When we are ready, God brings us to the narrow gate and directs us to enter.

If I am not ready, if my garden is still too weed-ridden to bypass tilling, then I will get out the tiller and stay on the hard path until the yard is ready, until I am ready.

God will lead me.

Betsy

I was scrolling through Facebook and almost missed it.

Beautiful waves crashing on the shore; a peek of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

The Gulf is normally quiet and sedate. Often the waves lap at your ankles. But not today. Today the waves are crashing on top of each other; rows of them colliding; white caps in the distance. I can hear them from the back of the house calling me to come see.

I feel like I am beside the Atlantic instead of beside the Gulf.

Suddenly what my old classmate is doing is not nearly as interesting as what God is doing right outside my window.

O Lord, our Sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth! Psalm 8:9.

Powerful and majestic, these waves can change landscapes, change views, call us away from our earthly pursuits to witness God’s power in the wind.

Is this not the way of God and His Spirit?

Like the wind pushing the waves against each other, crashing them onto the shore, so the Spirit of God can come into our world unseen and alter our landscape, change our view.

Majestic and powerful, full of energy and strength, the Spirit of God can move across the waters of our life and change us. His Spirit can make us mighty waves instead of timid ripples.

And to think I may have missed it!

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 1:20.

Nature, God’s handiwork, is full of such beautiful reminders of God’s nature. Beautiful sunrises and sunsets, intricate flowers and might oaks, powerful winds and gentle streams, God is constantly reminding us of His creativity, His wisdom, His attention to detail, His care for all of His creation.

And to think I may have missed it, distracted by worldly concerns and entertainments.

I do not have to be at the beach to see the majesty of God.

God shows me His majesty in the fat snowflakes, the glistening ice, the hardy winter flowers, the bright sun in a blue sky. God shows me His love in rain that replenishes the earth and prepares the ground for the approaching spring.

Soon we will observe Lent. Perhaps I need to fast from Facebook, from 24-hour news outlets, from political commentary. Perhaps I need to commit to spending more time admiring God’s handiwork – His sky, His clouds, His trees, His wind.

Soon it will be time to prepare for the sugar snaps, for the spring garden, for warmer weather and longer days.

Soon these strong winds in the Gulf will subside and gentle ankle-lapping waves will return.

I am so grateful I am here right at this moment to see these wonderful waves. I am so grateful that God called me to see His majesty and revel in his majestic might.

What a gift that He has shown us His eternal power and divine nature through His creation. What a gift that He makes the wind blow which makes the trees sway and the waves crash.

The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit. John 3:8.

I pray you take the opportunity to see God in action outside your window today. The wind is blowing; He is at work. You may need to put down your cell phone and turn off the TV. I did. But what a reward!

Beautiful waves crashing on the shore; a peek of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

Yours, O Lord, are the greatness, the power, the glory, the victory, and the majesty; for all that is in the heavens and on the earth is yours; yours is the kingdom, O Lord, and you are exalted as head above all. 1 Chronicles 29:11.

The last two weeks of January were my late husband’s least favorite weeks of the year. We usually headed south for a change in scenery. It’s a hard habit to break, even though I have had to learn to go on my own.

The beach in January is a magical place. I feel no need to sit on the beach and work on my tan or catch the cooling ocean breezes. My swimsuit does not make the trip. No rowdy young adults are pursuing spring break history. It’s just us old folks and a few equally old canines.

Slow walks on the beach in a sweatshirt, meals scattered throughout the day, relaxing hours on the porch watching the waves and seagulls and dolphins.

Rest.

My garden needs it. The earth needs it. I need it. Sometimes, all we need to fix our problems is to turn off our life, wait a little while, then turn it back on again.

January seems the perfect time for that.

Jesus said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” Mark 6:31

After the hubbub of the holidays, after the excitement of making new plans, before I lose the excuse of bad weather, I need to shut down and rest.

I don’t know why God created us to need rest, but it seems He did.

Perhaps it is in rest that we are able to hear His voice. Perhaps it is in rest that we slow down enough to contemplate what we read in scripture, meditate on what we see in His creation, look for His hand in action.

We can have that rest and see His hand in 8” of snow, but I would rather take my rest on a deserted beach and see His hand in the ocean waves.

The quiet can be a bit unnerving, but it allows me, even forces me, to focus on things too easily hidden by busyness and noise.

On the glorious splendor of your majesty, and on your wonderous works, I will meditate. Psalm 145:5.

Who knows what seeds God is putting down in this quiet time of rest. Who knows how the Spirit within me is communing with the Spirit above to mold me into a new creation? God knows. God knows that we need these quiet times for Him to transform us. God knows I need this quiet time of rest to delight in the Lord.

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 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 fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. Psalm 1:1-3.

What a lovely image for the people of God – trees with an endless supply of fresh water, yielding fruit, not withering under the stress of heat and time. Not bustling around or uprooted by storms or changing winds. Using the life-giving water of God to bear fruit that benefits others and carries the seeds for other trees.

Would I take the time to think about the beauty of what God is growing in believers if I did not take the time to rest? Or would I be busy stressing over the election….

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.

Thinking on these things sounds like rest, feels like rest. And that is rest that I can find any and every day, in the heat of the summer, in 8” of snow, or on a quiet beach.

Rest, and let your roots find streams of His life-giving water.

Grief came to visit today. As I was planning my garden, planning my trip, cleaning my house, grief came.

I miss Nick. I miss my best friend, my confidant, my lover. I miss his honesty, his support, his demands on my time. Would he approve of the choices I am making?

Am I just pursuing activities to keep this grief at a distance? Like an oozing wound, this grief begs to be re-covered. Plan for a trip, write a book, take some classes, work in the garden. Keep my hands and my mind busy. But like the weeds that work their way to the edges of the garden and burst from the edges of the cardboard, grief is forcing its way into the light.

Is grief, like fear, a sign of lagging faith?

Not faith that Nick is in a better place; I feel quite confident that he is complete now in a way he could never be on earth. But faith that I can move forward emotionally without him. Faith that God is directing my steps.

I look back on the past four and a half years and know that God has moved me to an unknown land, parted the seas, taught me new skills, changed me. Dare I say improved me? There was a time I thought I had lost my enthusiasm forever, but God has given me new opportunities, new hopes, new dreams. But with those come doubts, and with the doubts, grief. I miss my old life. I miss Nick. I was comfortable revolving my life around his. I liked our life together. Our times at the beach, our times on the lake, our times in the garden.

Whew! I need to shake this off. Clean the wound, reapply the bandage. I had wanted to write about ordering a raspberry bush with no knowledge if they would grow here. I had wanted to write about the beauty of being able to try again with the fig plant since I killed the one last year. I had wanted to write about the importance of research and learning and leaning on the knowledge of others.

Thus says the Lord: Stand at the crossroads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good path lies; and walk in it and find rest for your souls. Jeremiah 6:16.

Perhaps God in His wisdom is telling me that I can apply this to my grief as well as to my raspberry bush.

I remember the books our congregational care committee sent after Nick’s death. I remember the grief counseling our Associate Pastor led. I remember the tears the group of us shed as we tried to come to terms with our new reality. God has held my hand and moved me from that place to this. But once more I feel I am standing at a crossroads looking for the good path. I want to walk in it and find rest for my grieving soul.

There are ancient paths the Lord can show me. Grief is nothing new. Moving on with life after the loss of someone dear is nothing new. Grieving for the loss when it may appear that you have already moved on is nothing new. What is new is the footprints my feet may leave on the path. What is new is who God is transforming me to be.

So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. 2 Corinthians 4:16.

Grief came to visit today. It showed me a crossroads. It showed me a cross.

There is an ancient path, a good way. Grief cracked open my heart and showed it to me.

Jesus said to him, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the father except through me.” John 14:6.

Betsy

I confess. I spent a solid hour the other day immersing myself in the new seed catalogue. Oh, the possibilities! So many options! So many colors! So many different things that I could plant! They all look so beautiful, and I haven’t even looked at the flowers yet!

And Jesus said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” Luke 12:15.

Because let’s be real here. I do not have the space, time, physical strength, or patience to grow all these plants. Some of them might not grow here even if I did have all those things. Professionals grew the fruit in these pictures, many different professionals from across the country. 140 pages of fruits and vegetables and flowers, thousands of varieties. I will grow less than ten.

I am not a professional gardener; I am not even a very good gardener. To be good at something, truly good at it, takes time and effort and determination and commitment. I am not willing to give that to my garden.

Is this a lack of ambition on my part? A lack of seriousness? An aversion to hard work?

A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest, and poverty will come upon you as a robber, and want like an armed warrior. Proverbs 6:10-11.

I like to think instead that I am dedicating my time, effort, and determination to other things, things I value more highly than giant bell peppers or cucumber varieties.

I like to think that I am not over-committing myself to plants and a garden that will demand my time. I hope I am leaving ample space for God to lead me to new places, new activities, other responsibilities.

As much as I love my garden, love being outside, love digging in the dirt, love harvesting fresh veggies, the garden is not my life, not my ‘small g’ god. God is my God. If He were to call me away from the garden to other work, I like to think I would go without a backward glance.

To keep myself open to the possibilities of what God may call me to do, I need to turn away from some of the possibilities presented to me by this catalogue.

Over-commitment is something I have struggled with my entire life. I am not the only one. Keeping my hand down and my mouth shut often seems an impossible task. There is so much that needs doing, so much I could be doing. How do I balance doing too much with not doing enough?

It sounds simplistic, but the first thing I must determine is who I am letting judge what is too much and what is not enough. Am I comparing myself to a catalogue of professional photos? Am I letting social media dictate how I should be spending my time? Am I trying to impress my friends?

Am I now seeking human approval, or God’s approval? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still pleasing people, I would not be a servant of Christ. Galatians 1:10.

If I want to be a servant of Christ, and I do, then He is whose approval I need to seek. I want to focus on the activities He has given me to do. I need to sit at His feet and listen for what He wants me to do, then do it.

Just because the possibility exists for me to have a garden closer to the ones pictured in the catalogue doesn’t mean I should pursue it. Spending an hour looking at the pictures is like eye-candy, garden-porn, plant-lust. I confess. I am grateful God calls me to turn my eyes away and return to Him.

Set your mind on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. Colossians 3:2.

Betsy