Tag: faith

Effort and Opportunity

I look out my window and smile. What a difference a little bit of effort makes! For weeks the overgrown sugar snaps garden chided me. Every time I went to the garden I could feel the weight of an unfinished task, an unmet obligation.

The job was difficult. Overgrown weeds and dead plants entangled the fence posts and supports. The crabgrass was so entrenched that it took several passes with the tiller to clear the space. I tilled the space now, in the fall, so the microbes and beneficial bugs will return by spring. I covered it with cardboard so the weeds hopefully will not.

Now that space makes me proud. I made the effort and succeeded in clearing the space. Yay for me! I could not have done it without my brother-in-law’s help. I could not have done it without clear weather and the proper tools. But it is so encouraging that I was able to make the effort and complete the task.

Perhaps when I was younger and stronger and more energetic, I would not have been so gratified simply to have put forth the effort. Perhaps there were times in my life when I didn’t appreciate the obstacles many of us face in simply putting forth the effort.

There is a resistance that rears its ugly head and tells us not to try. There is a God who tells us to lean on Him for strength.

For nothing will be impossible with God. Luke 1:37.

I can do all things through him who strengthens me. Philippians 4:13.

Even if it’s little things like clearing the sugar snap garden, getting it ready for next year.

Now that space is ready for what is to come!

Now, when I look out my window or walk by my garden, I see that prepared garden space, and the inherent opportunity excites me. Now I want to prepare more of the garden. I want to prepare the space for the garlic. I know I can tackle the weeds along the fence line of the rest of the garden. I’ve done it for the sugar snaps.

No longer do I see the overgrown areas of my garden as exhausting and overwhelming obligations; I see them as exciting opportunities for future growth.

And if that is true in my garden, is it not also true in my life?

When I prove to myself that the small tasks God has given me are not too much for my feeble frame, I begin to look forward to the next tasks He sends me. He has sustained me. He has given me the strength and ability to accomplish this little thing, what else can He accomplish through me?

Suddenly, my world feels full of possibility. If God gives me a job to do, I can be confident that He will enable me to do it. If I am following Jesus, putting forth the effort to love my neighbors, love my enemies, put others needs ahead of my own, then God can and will use me to accomplish His ends. He will give me the strength and help and direction I need.

If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything we need?… No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. Romans 8:31-32, 37.

All this from a cleared garden space! Isn’t God amazing?

What overwhelming obligation do you face today? With God’s empowering Spirit, you can turn it into an exciting opportunity. I know. I’ve just done it. You can too.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Please join me as I sign my new book, Garden Devotions. Copies will be available to purchase at both events:

Sunday October 6th 9:30-10:30 am – First Presbyterian Church, Nashville or

Tuesday October 22nd 10-12 am – Logos Bookstore 2136 Bandywood Dr.

Obligations and Entanglements

As I wander my garden and check on my still growing tomatoes, the space where the sugar snaps grew taunts me. Why have you abandoned me? Why have you left me in such a mess? How will you be able to grow sugar snaps here next year, if you do not take care of me now?

I harvested my last sugar snaps in early June and the space where they grew sits untouched since then. By summer, I had turned my attention to cucumbers and tomatoes and peppers and basil and garlic and new fruit plants.

Now, my spring garden is overwhelmed with weeds, feral, abandoned. Soon it will be cold, and the ground will be hard. Not long after that I will plant my seeds again. Now is the time to address this space. Now is the time to prepare the ground for winter and next year’s crop. But “now” already has a lot of demands on it.

I find myself once more reviewing my obligations, prioritizing my commitments, planning my time to align with what God is calling me to do. I can’t write a blog on gardening if I do not tend to my garden.

Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him. Luke 14:29.

I yank the bean supports free from the dead sugar snaps and live grasses. I dig out the old cardboard, separate the fence from the poles and remove the timbers that border the space. Even with help, I find clearing the space of entanglements exhausting.

The old plants and growing weeds cling to the supports, the fencing, the cardboard, the timbers. I grab and pull and cut and separate. Slowly, I clear the space.

Even with the cool breeze, sweat runs into my eyes and down my back. My arms are sore and slimy and scratched. I arch my back and rotate my shoulders and wonder if ridicule might be easier.

But I have promised myself that I will grow sugar snaps next spring. To fulfill that obligation, I must rid this space of its entanglements.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a crowd 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. Hebrews 12:1.

And if this is true in garden, it is also true in my life.

I find myself immersed in activity and overwhelmed by my obligations. Even worse, I know they are self-imposed. No one’s health or safety depends on me. I have made commitments to others and myself; set goals that I want to attain. I still find them overwhelming. And the entanglements that accompany them are exhausting. But to build a fine structure or finish the race or maintain my garden, I need to meet my obligations and rid myself of the entanglements.

This is the hard part of gardening. It can be the hard part of life and faith as well, leaving us feeling exhausted. But good news is at hand. We live in faith. When we persevere, when we act in preparation for a future we may not see, when we look forward to what God is going to do in our lives, I believe God smiles.

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Hebrews 11:1.

(Abram) believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness. Genesis 15:6.

So, I get to work, meeting my obligations and ridding my life and garden of unwanted entanglements. I till the ground and uproot the weeds. I may not see the end results while I am engrossed in the labor, but I have faith that God does.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Beautiful!

The air is damp and cool. The outstretched arm of a far-away hurricane has left droplets on my table, dew on my grass, moisture in the air. Far from the raging winds and flooding rains, my yard soaks up these precious sprinkles like the gifts they are.

The birds are noisy this morning. They have found fresh pools of water and are telling their friends. Seeds are plentiful, and light breezes make the flying easy. A mockingbird sits on my garden fence and beckons me, calling my attention to what he wants to show me.

Ripe tomatoes. On a dying plant.

This dear plant is not using her limited resources to make her leaves green and supple, or even to make her stems straight and strong. She is putting all her energy into producing fruit that will benefit others. What a beautiful picture of the Christian life!

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Philippians 2:3-4.

Selfish ambition and conceit seem ingrained in my DNA. Perhaps they are – a gift from Eve. Certainly, our culture rewards it. Perhaps mankind has always rewarded it. Success is often defined as achieving your ambitions. But what if my ambition is to serve your interests instead of my own? What does that look like? Does it look like my dying tomato plants?

We all know someone who operates in near obscurity bringing meals to the elderly, clothes to the homeless, Bibles to prisoners. We know that sweet friend that gives tirelessly and without complaint, who is always there to support others, who shies away from all recognition.

This is the example Jesus sets for us. Go the extra mile. Turn the other cheek. Repay evil with kindness. Love one another. Empty yourself and let God’s Spirit fill you. Lay down your life.

This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. John 15:12-14.

This little tomato plant is laying down her life, giving her last efforts, to produce these beautiful tomatoes, to bless me with her gifts. It is so ingrained in her to do this that we rarely credited her for this altruistic behavior. Would that the same could be said about me.

There are moments when we get to witness this beautiful behavior in others. Last week was the anniversary of 9-11. There were many such stories from that day – beautiful self-sacrifice in the face of unspeakable horror. People putting the interests of others ahead of their own interests; people laying down their lives to help others.

God has put that tiny imprint of Himself in us. With the Spirit’s help, we can encourage His imprint to grow in us until we look and act more like Him. Jesus has shown us the way. Jesus is the way.

What a beautiful morning for sharing what God is growing in my life with you. Refreshing rains, cooling temperatures, gentle breezes. Far away a storm is raging. As I enjoy this peaceful moment, I wonder if I can share this generous gift of tomatoes with someone facing strong winds and flooding waters. Perhaps with you.

Thank you, beautiful friends, for sharing your time with me.

Love in Christ, Betsy

September Tomatoes

I went out of town for a week and guess what greeted me on my return? September Tomatoes.

The plant is well into old age. Some branches are brown and wilted. Most of her neighbor plants have died already. But look! Tomatoes!

This little plant amazes me. She is still working hard to produce fruit, to share her vitality with the world, to provide for others. She has not called it quits just because some of her neighbors have. It may sound silly to be impressed by a tomato plant, but I am. More accurately, I am impressed by how God is continuing to produce fruit in her.

Do you think God is teaching us something in this?

What is considered “past our prime” is changing. And not just because I am aging! A generation or two ago, a seventy-year-old person was old. Now there are seventy- and eighty-year-olds who are very active and vibrant. They travel the world, take yoga and Pilates, publish poetry books, care for their grandkids, find romance, and volunteer extensively.

The righteous flourish like a palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the Lord; they flourish in the courts of our God. In old age they still produce fruit; they are always green and full of sap, showing that the Lord is upright; he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him. Psalm 92:12-15.

Of course, not all of us live into our seventies and eighties. Some of us are gathered to God much earlier in life. Most of my tomato plants have already died. Not because they were unrighteous. Being right with God does not guarantee us a long life, but it does promise us a life of bearing fruit for Him, an abundant life.

I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete. John 15:11.

My eyes brighten, my lips push up my cheeks, a laugh burbles from my mouth. Joy. In this beautiful, simple thing. Hope. For myself, for others, for situations that feel hopeless. It’s not too late. As long as your feet are planted in the rich soil of God’s word, as long as the life-giving water of prayer flows, as long as the Son shines, there is joy and hope and love.

God is so good.

I have a favor to ask. If you have bought my new book Garden Devotions, thank you! If you liked it, please leave a review on Amazon. This is how they decide which books to recommend to browsing shoppers. The space to leave a review of the book is a long scroll down the page, but it is there at the bottom. If you would like to order the book it is available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and through the link provided in the menu at the top of this page.

This book feels like the green tomatoes on my plants. It’s never to late for God to bear new fruit in your life. The evidence in here, right before me. God plants a seed; we nurture it in His word and prayer; He produces fruit; that fruit is available to nourish others. Simple and amazing.

Thank you for joining me in the garden. I am so glad that my gardening days are not over just because it’s September.

Rejoice in the Lord always, again I will say, Rejoice. Philippians 4:4.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Cooler Weather

It’s hot today, but just last week we enjoyed unusual cool weather. The cool morning air called me to set my coffee down and pull some weeds. What a lovely time to be outside.

Recent rains have made my grass green again. The hedgerow has ended its summer siesta and is greeting me with outstretched limbs and upturned leaves. I know the days are getting shorter and soon these plants will tire and fade, but it is still August. My tomatoes may be on their last leg, but the peppers, the basil, the raspberry, and the fig are full of life.

So are the weeds.

During the hot weeks, I stopped pulling them every day. Their growth was stunted by the heat, as was my willingness to exert myself. But the cooler weather revived us all.

The cardboard laid across the ground has done a fair job of keeping the weeds away from the plants, but the fence line is a different story. There, on the edges of the cardboard, where the fence meets exposed ground, the weeds thrive. Crabgrass reaches over the mulch to cover the ground; tall grasses rejoice in their safety from the mower; pilgrims from the hedgerow find new homes. Sometimes the garden plants are hard to see through the weeds.

How did I let this happen? I had been so conscientious earlier in the summer. My attention had waned with the heat and the lack of fruit. Other matters had occupied my thoughts and my hands.

Discipline yourselves, keep alert. Like a roaring lion, your adversary the devil prowls around looking for someone to devour. Resist him, steadfast in your faith, for you know that your brothers and sisters in all the world are undergoing the same kind of suffering. 1 Peter 5:8-9.

I have not been disciplined, alert, steadfast. I have let the weeds grow.

But it is a beautiful cool morning so I will pull some now. I will recommit myself to pulling some weeds every morning.

Therefore, we must pay greater attention to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away from it. Hebrews 2:1.

Drifting away is so easy. New interests draw my eye. Other activities demand my time. Different challenges occupy my mind. Suddenly I am no longer focused on loving God and loving my neighbor. Suddenly there are weeds growing in my garden.

Sometimes I find it hard to focus on loving one another. It’s so nebulous. No clear check list. What does it mean to love one another just as Jesus loved us? (John 13:34)

Fortunately, Paul gives us a description of what a weed-free garden of love looks like.

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’s 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 have some weeds in my garden. They grew when I was busy with other things, when I had drifted away, when I wasn’t paying attention.

But God has granted me the grace to see the weeds and the gift of a cool morning. It’s not too late to pull some weeds. It’s never too late to share God’s love.

Do you know how much God loves you? Each and every one of you, no matter how many weeds are growing in your garden, no matter how little fruit is evident, no matter how far you may have drifted. God loves you.

Won’t you join me today in the cool of the morning? We’ll pick the weeds that hide the beautiful plants growing in our lives.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Information about my new book, Garden Devotions, is available in the menu at the top of this page. Just click on the link titled Garden Devotions! Thanks!

Garden Devotions

It’s here! After months of planning, writing, editing, and proof-reading, Garden Devotions is a reality!

Before I send this information to the world, I wanted you who read these posts to know first. If you had not supported and encouraged me, I would never have pursued publishing a book of devotions about the garden. Thank you.

I have attached a link to buy the book from WestBow Publishing (which renders higher royalties), but you can also find it on the Amazon or the Barnes and Noble websites. Feel free to ask your local bookstore to order a copy or carry several! They can order them through Ingram.

Click to order: Garden Devotions

The eBook format should be available, but if it is not, please wait a few days. I am told it will be available soon.

If you are willing, please leave a review of the book. These reviews let new readers know what to expect before they commit to buying the book.

Many thanks again to all of you who have supported me over the past three years. I hope to be having some book signing events this fall and will keep you posted. Social media and press releases to come!

Meanwhile, in the garden, the weeds are thriving. As are the peppers, the basil and my baby fruit plants. I’ll be back to talk about all of that in the next weeks, but I was too excited to not share this news with you now.

Love in Christ, Betsy

I love you anyway

I have taken my coffee cup out to the garden with me. I know I do not need to keep my hands free for garden work. There is nothing to pick. I’m letting the weeds grow. The garden is amazingly verdant for August. Recent rains, daily watering through the soaker hose, and cloudy days have encouraged the plants to stay green and growing. There are still new tomatoes growing but all the bigger ones have been taken.

As I sip my coffee and stare at the garden, a line from a children’s book rolls through my head.

“I love you anyway.”

My daughter had shown me the book. Olivia’s spirited and rambunctious approach to life has exhausted her mother. At bedtime she tells Oliva that her constant motion is a challenge, but she loves her anyway. Falling asleep, Olivia mutters “I love you anyway, too.”

 I love my tomato plants anyway. Even if they are riddled with weeds and devoid of fruit.

God has taught me this skill. He loves me anyway when I am riddled with weeds and devoid of fruit. God loves every one of us anyway.

I know this because Jesus loved people anyway. He loved the woman living out of wedlock (John 4), loved those caught in adultery (John 8), loved the ones the church would not accept – the crippled, the lepers and the unclean. He loved uneducated fishermen, agents of the government, the demon-possessed, and the sinners. He loved them all anyway.

And Jesus is the exact representation of God. (Hebrews 1:3)

For I have not spoken on my own, but the Father who sent me has himself given me a commandment about what to say and what to speak. And I know this commandment is eternal life. What I speak, therefore, I speak just as the Father has told me. John 12:49-50.

And what does Jesus say?

I do not judge anyone who hears my words and does not keep them, for I have come not to judge the world, but to save the world. John 14:47.

He loves us anyway.

Do I love Him anyway? Or do I only love Him because?

Do I love God when my body fails me, when my children are a challenge, when my job falls apart, when my husband dies? Do I love Him when the world seems full of evil and stupidity and selfishness? Do I love Him when I know He could change the situation to better meet my expectations, but He doesn’t? Do I love Him anyway, as He has first loved me?

Do I, as a member of the body of Christ in the world, love you anyway?

Do I love you even when you are obviously sinning? Is your sin any more a barrier to God’s love than my sin? It is not.

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 that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. John 13:34-35.

I think I’ll take that up as my mantra for a while – I love you anyway.

I love my garden even when it fails to meet my expectations. I love my church even when it becomes divisive. I love my friends even when they hurt my feelings. I love my family even when we disagree. I love you when you live sinfully, reject the church, follow your own paths, demand your own way, even when you declare yourself less of a sinner than I am.

I love you anyway.

God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. John 3:16.

God loves us anyway. I close my weary eyes and whisper, “I love you anyway too.”

Love in Christ, Betsy

No Harvest

I tell myself to persevere, but I am tempted to give up. Predators have stolen my tomatoes once again, despite the bird netting, despite the fence, despite the marigolds, despite the hot sauce. My harvest basket remains empty and despair creeps in.

Why did I ever think I could grow tomatoes? Nick could grow them. We had surplus tomatoes every year. We gave them away to anyone who would take them. I have not harvested any this year except the little cherry ones. I recognize I should be grateful for these little gems. Just as I was grateful for my one cucumber last week.

I should focus on my abundant basil, the peppers growing larger every day, the success of the sugar snaps and garlic earlier. I have so much to be thankful for, why does the lack of large red tomatoes depress me?

The growing season isn’t even over. My tomato plants are still green. They still have blossoms and little green tomatoes. I can redouble my efforts to protect them from whoever is stealing them, but I have lost any expectation of a ripe tomato.

Sometimes, things just don’t turn out like we wanted them to, expected them to.

I’ve been digging deep into the story of Joseph from Genesis. God gave him a dream of leadership, then his brothers sold him into a foreign country as a slave. Talk about life not living up to your expectations! Perhaps I am projecting his imagined despair on my garden troubles. Certainly, the absence of red tomatoes pales in comparison.

But the question remains the same. How do we, how do I, respond?

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 1:2-4.

And the only way my endurance will grow to have its full effect is if I endure things. Like a barren garden. Because a life without tomatoes is nothing compared to a life without Christ. I must take this challenge and learn from it, grow from it, endure it, give thanks for it even.

This is difficult because I don’t yet know what exactly I am supposed to be learning, if in fact I am supposed to be learning anything at all. Perhaps to not expect to succeed at everything? Perhaps to be grateful for what I do have instead of focusing on what I don’t? Perhaps to learn to persevere, endure in the face of failure?

When anger and condemnation arise in me do I consider myself a failure as a follower of Christ? When I see others falling short of a bountiful crop of spiritual fruit, do I doubt their motives, their commitment, their faith? I still have a garden, even if others have tomatoes and I do not. I am still a gardener. Tomatoes are still growing in my garden. I am just not getting to harvest them. They are not benefiting me personally. How vain to consider it loss if I do not benefit. Isn’t God concerned with all His creation?

Perhaps the fruit you are bearing isn’t benefiting you either. Perhaps God is growing it in you to benefit someone else. Perhaps that is the purpose of all the fruit we bear.

Or He may just be teaching me to endure. If Christ is our model and the perfect reflection of God, consider how much He endured – abandonment, torture, crucifixion, death. God has endured humanity’s failure, betrayal, resistance, refusal to believe and obey. He endures our fruitlessness to this day.

God has not given up on me or you or anyone else in the world. I will not give up on my garden. I will love it and care for it and tend to it. And I will thank God for teaching me to endure.

The Lord is not slow about his promise, as some would consider slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance. 2 Peter 3:9.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Rain

As I step out the door the air meets me like a blanket, thick and heavy. Just moving through the dense atmosphere causes the molecules to turn to water on my arms. It’s going to rain. Any minute the humidity will increase one more percent and the water will become too heavy for the air and clouds to hold.

I walk quickly, since I am not earthy enough to garden in the rain. A cucumber has been slowly growing on my dying vines. Every day I check its thickness, its color, its length, and pray no animal has taken it in the night. It is still there. Stubby but turning light. I pick it, amazed and grateful that my cucumber vines have put forth such a grand effort in their dying days.

Perhaps the coming rains will bring new life to this old vine. Perhaps the rain will cool the ground and air and make life easier for these precious plants. Perhaps not. This is God’s call. I don’t control the weather.

My tomatoes are recovering from their previous attack. The netting seems to be working for now. Each plant has small green orbs sucking in moisture and nutrients through the branches. Soon rain will supplement the city water I send them through the soaker hose. Hopefully the rain will last long enough to fill the underground reservoirs, to bring the grass in the yard back to life, to bring the music back to my creek.

The rain starts by the time I get to my peppers. They are healthy and green, bearing tiny fruit. When the peppers turn vibrant red and orange and yellow, I will pick them. Such hardy warriors.

Unwilling to stand in the rain, I scan the basil, the raspberry, and the fig from afar. I should harvest more basil soon, but not today. The fruit plants look healthy. No doubt this rain will help them as well.

I turn my face for a moment up to the sky and feel the gentle drops, grateful for it bringing life, grateful for my cucumber.

This is not a storm, blown in by strong winds and darks clouds in a sunny sky. This is one big cloud filling the sky and reaching as low as my yard. There is no wind so I am hoping the cloud will stay and soak my garden, my yard, the earth with water for hours. Perhaps even cool us off a bit, although that is a lot to ask for in late July.

This is just life. I tend the garden. Some seasons are hard on the garden, some seasons are hard on the gardener. God sends heat. God sends rain. It is only through Him, His life-giving, life-sustaining Spirit, that anything grows at all.

Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. John 15:4-5.

Apart from Christ, apart from God, I can do nothing. I can’t grow; I can’t bear fruit. Even the fruit growing in my garden is beyond my control. What then is my role as a gardener? As a follower of Christ, a believer?

If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this that you bear much fruit and become my disciples. John 15:7.

Lord, thank you for the rain. May it help the garden bear fruit. Thank you for the rain in my life. May it help me bear fruit for you, fruit that glorifies you.

And this is my prayer for each of you as well. May God grow His fruit in your life.

Love in Christ, Betsy

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