Tag: growth

First Tomatoes

I went out of town for a week and came home to red tomatoes! What a joy to see them there, peeking out from the green leaves. The squirrels didn’t steal them, the birds didn’t peck them, too much water didn’t split their sides. Ripe tomatoes!

The normal garden routine is to walk along the garden and watch the green tomatoes get bigger and bigger, then lighter and lighter, then see hints of pink and tints of orange arise. I put up the bird netting and seal off entry points for the squirrels and pray the tomatoes ripen before they are destroyed.

But sometimes the garden surprises me.

My little prodigy tomato plant brought me beautiful red cherry tomatoes while I wasn’t even looking.

Isn’t God amazing!

Should I be surprised they appeared the week of Pentecost, when God reminds us that He is the giver of gifts, the giver of power, and the source of all growth? God produced fruit on my tomato plant just as His Spirit produces fruit in our lives. Sometimes we work and struggle to help the fruit grow, and sometimes it suddenly appears like flames of fire or red tomatoes.

But there’s another reason these little tomatoes fill me with joy. For the past few years, my tomato plants have struggled. They may yet struggle this year, but these little red jewels fill me with hope and encouragement. Perhaps the effort I extend may actually result in the desired end – ripe tomatoes.

They are days when I love gardening for the activity itself – scooping up dirt in my hand and inhaling the soil’s scent. I sense a connection with the earth, the minerals in the dirt that are essential for life, the energy and life the soil brings. I sense the awakening of a long dormant part of my brain left by ancient ancestors who relied on the earth for daily survival.

Few things can compare to the scent of the basil and garlic plants, or the tart tang of tomato plant leaves. Sometimes just the joy of being outside makes gardening worthwhile. The bunnies and birds, the honeysuckle and fireflies, the tinkle of the creek and the swaying tree branches remind me of how good God is to us.

But I don’t garden for these sensations. I garden for the fruit. I want sugar snaps, cucumbers, peppers, and especially, I want tomatoes.

After walking in the creek for a while, I led my grandkids to the garden, and we picked those little red tomatoes. Two for each of them, which they ate walking beside the garden.

What a perfect gift.

Sometimes, I get tired of gardening and the effort it takes. Sometimes, the lack of visible results is discouraging. The same is true in my walk of faith. Sometimes, I get tired of extending the effort and discouraged by my lack of progress. Will reading my Bible today really make any difference? Do I really need to go to church today? I know I committed to this group, but they won’t miss me if I skip.

But then, God surprises me with a gift. Some word leaps off the page and I sense God speaking to my heart. I sit beside an old friend in the pew and reconnect. A woman in the group provides just the piece of information I need to finish my project. Ripe tomatoes on the vine.

His divine power has given us everything needed for life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. 2 Peter 1:3.

Put in the work. The tomatoes are worth it!

Love in Christ, Betsy

The Simple Things

The air is dense with moisture and the wet grass soaks my garden shoes. It has rained every day since my return from the mountains of Peru. I take deep inhales of the thick air, grateful for the oxygen it brings me so easily, grateful for the level, flat walk across my backyard.

I worried about leaving my garden unattended while I traveled, but I needn’t have. God blessed Middle Tennessee with a cool, wet May, and my garden is thriving. The cucumbers are covered in bright yellow flowers, climbing their trellises and reaching beyond the fence. The tomato plants are tall and green with tiny green tomatoes promising a hearty harvest. I even picked a little red one from my prodigy plant!

The raspberry plant is almost too big, and I found my first red berry this morning! The fig has returned and is green and growing. Life is good in my garden. Only the oregano seems to be struggling. It’s my first season to grow it, so it may just be too early, too cool, or too wet. It’s early June; it has all summer to grow.

Being here in the garden, tucking cucumber vines back inside the fence, complimenting my tomatoes on their growth, reminds me of who I am at my core. I am not a world traveler who revels in new places and new adventures and new challenges. I am a simple girl, who loves to putter in her garden and walk by her creek and listen to the birds call to each other.

God is in the simple things, the scent of mowed grass, the little green tomato, the spreading vine. God is in the wet lawn and the heavy clouds and the thick green hedgerow. God blesses me with bunnies eating clover and ducks in the creek. God has blessed me with a home that feels like home, comfortable, safe, familiar.

Of course, God is in the big things, the marvelous things as well. The majestic mountains, the ingenuity of past people, the diversity of plants, animals, languages, and cultures, the crossing of mountains from dessert to valley to rainforest. Mostly, I am amazed that people without trains, buses, and cars were able to traverse inhospitable lands and build cities, villages, roads, bridges, and complex gardening and watering systems. The Incan Trail is a vast network of walking trails that cover Peru well beyond the tourist areas. None of it is as easy as walking to my garden.

I wonder if the Incan people knew that what they were building would be admired hundreds of years later by people from all over the world. Perhaps they were just tending their gardens, studying the seasons, and admiring God’s creations. Perhaps, like me, they were just living their lives.

I had the opportunity to meet a few of their descendants, speaking their own language, a derivative of the one the Incans spoke, tending to their herds on land that had been in their family forever. The shepherdess couldn’t understand why I wanted to see her and the alpacas. She was just doing what she did every day. Like having someone watch me walk among my garden plants.

Perhaps that is the beauty of God in the simple things. He created all of it and declared it all good. The heavens, the earth, the plants, the animals, and us. He created us to live in harmony and community with each other. He inspired us to cross mountains and build bridges. He encourages us to see His constant presence in the world around us as we go about living our daily life, no matter how mundane our lives may feel to us.

Whatever your task, put yourself into it, as done for the Lord and not for your masters, since you know that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward; you serve the Lord Christ. Colossians 3:23-24.

It’s good to be home, back in my garden, back with my friends. May you sense the presence of God in the simple tasks you face today and live your life to His glory.

Love in Christ, Betsy

30, 60, 100fold

Cucumbers are easily my favorite plant in the garden. Aggressive vines, they fill whatever space I give them and reach for more. Rarely do I have a year when the cucumbers refuse to grow or don’t produce fruit. At this stage they are a luscious green hue and boast large leaves and spreading vines. But they are not identical. Similar plants planted next to each other in the same soil and nurtured in the same way still grow differently.

I don’t know why the plant on the left is so much bigger than the plant on the right. They are both healthy. They are both growing. I expect them both to yield cucumbers later this summer.

My grandkids are like this. Although they are twins, a boy and a girl, my grandson is significantly larger than my granddaughter. This may or may not be true their entire lives. I don’t know if the smaller cucumber will have a growth spurt and catch up to the size of his neighbor, or if it will always be a smaller plant. The beauty is – it doesn’t matter. Not in my eyes and not in God’s eyes.

Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain. Some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Matthew 13:8.

In the parable of the sower and the seed, Jesus distinguishes the seed that was unable to bear fruit from the seed that did but is not critical of the seed that produces “only” thirtyfold.

If only I could be so gracious!

Comparisons and competition are an inevitable part of life, but I wonder if they need to be. I love to watch football and basketball, cooking competitions and singing competitions. I love to play bridge and mahjong. I like to win. But the truth is, I often lose. And in any competition, most people “lose.” If only one person can be the best, it’s a good chance that the person is not me, or you.

Fortunately, God does not call us to “win.” He askes us to bring our failures and weaknesses to Him and let him use them to further His kingdom. His “power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

In the parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30), The servant who presents four talents receives the same praise as the servant who produces ten. They both doubled what they were given.

Perhaps, the smaller cucumber plant is doing just as well, or even better, with what it started with than the larger one. Perhaps the plant producing 30fold faces obstacles unknown to us. Perhaps that harvest is more miraculous than the abundant 100fold harvest. Who am I to judge?

And by the time my cucumbers do produce, it will be difficult to determine which vines are producing which fruit. They will intertwine and climb together until all I see is a lovely cucumber harvest.

I am so grateful for my growing cucumbers, the large and small ones. All are evidence of healthy soil and sufficient water and nutrients. All are growing, and Lord willing, all will produce fruit. My role as the gardener is to encourage each one of them.

In yoga class, out teacher reminds us to keep our eyes on our own mat. Sometimes, that is difficult. The urge to compare and contrast is constant.

But when they measure themselves by one another, and compare themselves with one another, they do not show good sense. 2 Corinthians 10:12.

Instead, Let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. Hebrews 12:1-2.

Jesus tells us that good soil produces grain, some thirty, some sixty, and some one-hundred-fold. All are cause for celebration.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Prodigy

I slip on my garden shoes and head out the back door. The sun peeks over the tree line and warms my face. Green hedges and green trees greet me everywhere I look. May is a wonderful time to be outside.

I pick a few sugar snaps to savor as I walk along the summer plants. The lighter green leaves of new growth bring a smile to my face. “Look how big you’re getting!” Words of encouragement that every living thing needs.

I wander down the row of tomatoes and stop. A tomato? It’s May!

May is when my summer plants send down roots and establish themselves in the ground. May is when my plants grow tall and spread their branches. This little plant thinks May is a time to produce tomatoes.

I know that having a little green tomato in May does not necessarily mean I will have a red ripe one in June. Sometimes the constrained nature of the seedling container encourages the plant to blossom early. There’s a good chance the plant will redirect its energy to establishing roots and spreading out branches now that it’s in the ground. The plant will reabsorb and redistribute the nutrients needed for the tomato to ripen.

Perhaps this little plant is a prodigy, and it will produce fruit now and for months to come. Perhaps that is in the DNA of cherry tomato plants. I haven’t planted one in years. I stopped because the clusters of tiny tomatoes often ended up on the ground, too easily dropped from their branches. But my grandkids love these little tomatoes, so I am growing them.

What I hope is that the plant is not peaking too early, blooming before it’s established enough to withstand the summer heat. Perhaps it is too eager to display its accomplishments, producing tomatoes and ignoring the deep underground work of establishing roots.

Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil. But when the sun rose, they were scorched, and since they had no root, they withered away. Matthew 13:5-6.

Only time will tell if this is a prodigy or an early bloomer.

Maybe this plant will produce tomatoes in June and be spent and exhausted, unable to endure the heat of late summer. Or maybe it will produce tomatoes continuously for months.

I’m too old to be a child prodigy or even an early bloomer. But I am prone to display my thoughts and actions before I have given them a chance to develop roots. Perhaps I need to redirect my resources to reaching deep into the quiet darkness to find the nutrients and moisture hidden there.

All of us Marthas in the world wish we could be a little bit more like Mary, both the one who sat at Jesus’ feet (Luke 10:42) and the one who pondered things in her heart (Luke 2:19).

I hope this little plant is sending down roots, establishing itself firmly so it can withstand the heat of summer.

I hope I am too. And you, as well. So that we may grow tall and healthy and spread out our branches, providing shade and fruit and enough room for birds to nest (Luke 13:18). What a beautiful vision of the family of God, a healthy and growing garden.

Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. John 15:4.

As exciting as it is to see a tomato on the vine in May, I pray that this little plant, and all of us, will take the time to establish our roots firmly so we can abide in the vine and produce an abundant harvest.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Bad News, Good News

The bad news is that my sugar snaps will not be the tall, thick, over-abundant crop they were last year. Could it be chemicals from the cardboard? Did the cardboard move and suppress some seeds? Did the heat and rainless days, coupled with my inattention, stunt their growth? It could even be the absence of Miracle Gro in their infancy. Most likely, a combination of these factors caused me to have a short and patchy sugar snap crop.

The good news? Look at the blossoms! Each of these dainty white flowers will yield a delicious sugar snap. These short plants are healthy. They are green, and they are flowering. My mouth waters in anticipation of that first sugar snap pod. Sweet and crunchy, damp with the morning dew. Maybe next week…

What a gift that God created blossoms. Vibrant pink, dainty white, or bold shades of yellow, these bursts of color let us know that the plant is alive and thriving. Blossoms bring color to the browns of winter and the greens of summer. They bring proof of life and hope for growth, beauty in the moment and a foreshadowing of future fruit.

From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth is leaves, you know that summer is near. Matthew 24:32.

God gives us hints of good things to come. Bad things too, if we have sown seeds of anger and hatred. But that is a thought for another day. Today, it is enough to revel in the sugar snap blossoms.

How easy it would be to get discouraged by a crop that is not as abundant as I had wanted. How easy it is to compare this year’s crop to last year’s and find it lacking. But every crop is different. Every year is different. And here’s the thing, this smaller crop may be an answered prayer.

I will be unavailable to pick my sugar snaps in late May, when they usually come in. Last year, I was picking 60 plus peas a day in late May. I was worried about this year’s harvest being lost. I planted the peas early so they would come in early, but if the weather had stayed cool, the plants would have matured longer (probably grown taller) and produced their flowers later. There was a chance I could miss the harvest.

But the higher temperatures and stunted growth have allowed my sugar snaps to flower in late April and bear fruit in early May. God is so good!

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28.

So, maybe it’s all good news. Perhaps I shouldn’t complain or fret if reality does not look like I imagined in my head. This year is not last year. My life is different, my garden is different, the temperatures are different, why would I expect my garden to be the same?

What looks like a failure, or a disappointment, may be the perfect solution.

Perhaps, if I stop trying to impose my will on the situation, I can see how beautifully God has knit the world together. What love He has for the world that He gives us blossoms and hope, rebirth and growth, and perfect solutions to enrich our souls.

I should have sugar snaps by next week. Good news!

Do not be afraid; for see – I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people. Luke 2:10.

Has God shown you a blossom, a promise of growth and future fruit? Is God transforming what looked like disappointment into answered prayer? Are you focusing on the bad news or the Good News?

The fruit is coming soon!

Love in Christ, Betsy

Rain that Restores

I got spoiled by the daily rains and moderate temperatures and forgot about my sugar snaps. The temperatures rose into the eighties, and I went to the lake for a few days. When I came home, I found my sugar snap plants traumatized by the heat and lack of water.

I do my best, but sometimes I let down those who depend on me.

I now spend time with my sugar snaps every day. I speak soft words of encouragement and sing gentle melodies. I add plant food to the hose nozzle and water them daily. They are recovering. New green growth graces their stems. The browned leaves are returning to health. I think they will recover sufficiently to bear fruit in the future.

In my efforts to restore my sugar snaps, I can’t forget these new plants I added to my garden – tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, basil, and oregano. Or ignore my garlic, fig, and raspberries. Perhaps I have over committed, but these plants are in the ground, and I need to care for them.

I have a soaker hose stretched along most of the garden, but it didn’t extend to the sugar snaps. They rarely last into June due to the heat. Surely, I can water them by hand until then. And yet I didn’t. And I head out of town again in May. Do I need plant-sitters to water and pick my sugar snaps daily?

As I write this, a gentle rain soaks my garden. Clouds promise to keep the temperatures in the seventies. God is tending my garden today. He is tending His wider garden of flowers and trees that are bursting with new life. I am so grateful for His sustaining love.

In past generations he allowed all the nations to follow their own ways; yet he has not left himself without a witness in doing good – giving you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons, and filling you with food and your hearts with joy. Acts 14:16-17.

As much as I care for my garden and extend extra care to my sugar snaps, God cares even more for us and our growth. Sometimes we are traumatized by the actions of others. Sometimes we feel ourselves wither under adverse conditions. Sometimes we are burdened by the guilt of our own actions or failure to act. Sometimes, I find it hard to grow.

I trust that God will send his gentle rains and the clouds that hide the sun’s harsh glare. And when the time is right, He will clear the skies and warm the earth and I will reach for those bright rays of sunlight.

I think my sugar snaps will be all right. I will devise a way to extend the soaker hose to include them while I am away. I have friends and family who can harvest peas and tend to the plants. I have confessed my inattentiveness and been forgiven. I am working to repair the damage done. This gentle rain reminds me that God is working to repair the damage as well, out of love for all He created.

For thus says the Lord God, the Holy One of Isreal: In returning and rest, you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength… He will give rain for the seed with which you sow the ground, and grain, the produce of the ground, which will be rich and plenteous. On that day your cattle shall graze in broad pastures. Isaiah 30:15,23.

When the rain stops, I’ll head to the garden and talk with my growing plants. Nourished by gentle rain and encouraged by moderate temperatures, I hope that they will encourage me in return. God is so good and so faithful, sending the rain on the righteous and the unrighteous (Matt. 5:45). May you and I both be restored by soft rain and gentle melodies.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Seedlings

I slip into my garden shoes and cross the wet grass to my newly planted garden. A cool breeze causes me to shiver, and I wrap my hands around my warm coffee mug. It’s still April. It’s still Spring. It may be warm enough to put the plants in the ground and spend the afternoons outside, but the mornings are still chilly.

By the time I’ve walked the garden, pulled weeds, and taken pictures, only my toes still feel the chill.

The rain yesterday morning made the garden easy to plant yesterday afternoon. This morning, the ground is still damp. Hopefully, the abundant water and the soft soil will enable the seedlings to establish their roots quickly.

Although I can’t see it, I envision the roots once so tightly packed in their containers stretching out in freedom, thrilled by the space to explore and claim.

Out of my distress, I called on the Lord; the Lord answered me and set me in a broad place. Psalm 118:5

There were hundreds of plants to choose from at the garden center. What made me pick these? They seemed too big for their containers. They had proven themselves able to grow and now needed more space to achieve new heights.

Does God do this with us?

I don’t think the seedlings at the garden center were in distress. In fact, the garden center tries to keep them as healthy and happy as possible. Even so, there were reps there from a plant company pulling their dead and dying seedlings off the shelves.

If the seedlings aren’t taken and replanted in a garden somewhere, they will never become the plants they can be. Almost makes me want to buy all of them, but of course that is not possible. Perhaps I can encourage you to buy a few?

So, I picked the seedlings that seemed most ready to leave their container cups and transplanted them into my broad and soggy yard. Here, they can spread their roots deeper and their branches higher. Here, they can bear fruit.

Those containers the seedlings were in helped protect them when they were young. The small space gave the seed a safe place to transform, and the vital nutrients needed to do so. That cozy container allowed the plant to be kept in a safe, warm environment, protected from storms and predators. But now that the plant is established, it needs garden space to grow.

Perhaps I have containers around my life, containers that once protected me but now constrain my growth. Perhaps I have separated myself from others or sheltered myself from storms. Perhaps I have put a container around God – who He can love, what He can do, how He might show up. Maybe to grow and bear fruit, I need to shed those containers and spread out into the wider world around me.

I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. Isaiah 43:19.

It’s a wide world out there, and my garden is only a miniscule spot in it. But it is bigger than the container from the garden center. I hope my plants thrive in the space provided. I pray they take advantage of the chance to spread their roots and extend their reach. Perhaps God is giving you and me that opportunity as well, an opportunity to spread our roots and extend our reach.

Blessed are those who trust in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord. They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes, and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit. Jeremiah 16:7-8.

Christ is Risen. God has done a new thing, and with God, nothing is impossible. The world beyond our containers may look scary, but trust in the Lord. Great growth awaits us.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Holy Week

Holy Week finds me mired in mundane tasks. We are about to celebrate God’s greatest act since creation, and I am wondering what I will wear.

Perhaps I should be focusing on what Jesus endured on our, on my, behalf. His willingness to endure such brutality so that I would not have to, so that I would not be marked for destruction because of my sins.

Perhaps I should be immersed in His humanity, his willingness and ability to walk among us as a human, to learn our language, feel our grief, and struggle beside us. His frustration with those who closed their ears and found fault was evident. Am I the pharisee in the story? Confident that I know how God will manifest Himself, quick to criticize anything new or uncomfortable?

Perhaps I should be rejoicing in His miraculous saving power, His coming resurrection, the gift of His Spirit. He is making me a new creation (2 Cor. 5:17). He has given me the ability to become a child of God (John 1:12), an heir to His kingdom (Romans 8:16).

Shouldn’t I be weeping at the foot of the cross or rejoicing at the empty tomb?

My raspberry has returned for her second year. This is my first perennial, possible only because I am no longer tilling my garden every spring. I was worried it might not survive the winter, but it is bright and green and sending new plants up in the cracks of the cardboard.

Soon it will be time to plant the summer garden. Perhaps this weekend if I get the plants bought and the weather cooperates.

Easter is late this year, and it has compressed too many activities into the following week. The lake beckons, writing deadlines loom, travel preparations need attention. Holy Week finds me mired in mundane tasks.

But are these mundane tasks? Lunches with friends, a chance to connect and support and love each other? Tending to the garden, growing food, interacting with nature? Appreciating the beauty in the world, the lakes, the creeks, the flowers, and the trees, is this not a form of worship of the One who created it all?

And in addition, I have the privilege of sharing with you the joy that my raspberry bush is alive. She survived the winter. She is growing and cheerful. Perhaps she will bear fruit this year, although I have been told to wait until the third year.

Perhaps it is in the mundane tasks of life that we are to see and remember God. Yes, there are the moments of extreme passion and tremendous theological impact like what we celebrate this week. Four days that really did change the world. But most of our time is ‘ordinary time.’ Time spent with family or friends, at the lake, in the yard, or at the kitchen sink.

Perhaps these are exactly the times when I am called to display Christ’s presence in my life. Am I willing to suffer a little to ease someone else’s burden? Am I willing to share the daily struggles of those around me? Am I open to God acting in unpredictable ways? Am I becoming a new creation through the power of God’s Spirit?

Am I, like my raspberry bush, bursting with new life and sending sprouts into bare spaces? If so, why am I wondering what I will wear?

And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you that Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. Matthew 6:28-29.

I pray you have a blessed Holy Week, dear friends. I pray you acknowledge God in all the mundane tasks of life. I pray you have moments of weeping and moments of rejoicing and moments of quiet reflection. And don’t worry about what you wear; God sees your heart.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Everyday Miracles

The sugar snaps are up! I expected it to happen, even though there have been years when it didn’t. I made plans for their emergence from the ground and their upward growth, but after I plant the seeds, what happens is beyond my control.

Weather, storms, predators, toxins in the ground, so many possible dangers to the little seeds, so many forces which could prevent their growth. But here they are! Bursting from their dried-up pods through the dark soil, and into the sunlight.

I could have chosen not to plant the seeds, knowing there was a chance they wouldn’t sprout. I could look at their growth and consider it a given. (Of course they grew – no mystery here.) But I see God at work in these growing plants.

Where do they get their motivation to grow? What draws them from their shell and transforms them? What makes them reach for the sun? Did they know that such a future awaited them? Do they know even now the bountiful harvest they will one day produce?

Do we?

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.

In the darkness of the earth, these seeds surrendered their hard protective coating and let God transform them. They rooted themselves in the fertile soil and reached out beyond their cozy homes. They pushed into the wider world, braving cold temperatures, predators, and weeds.

They are becoming what God intended them to be – healthy, growing, fruit-producing plants.

Not all the seeds make this transformation. There are bald spots in the garden. Perhaps the birds stole the seeds. Perhaps the cardboard meant to suppress weeds had the unintended consequence of suppressing the seed. (Is there a lesson here?) Perhaps the sudden freeze just as they were emerging was too much for the young plant.

I could focus on the bare spots, but I will not. I rejoice in the miracle of healthy sugar snap plants. Soon they will grow and expand. Soon these little plants will grasp the supports around them and pull themselves skyward, filling my garden with healthy plants. At least I pray that will happen.

Because I can’t make it happen, just as I can’t make myself patient and loving. This transformation, this growth is a gift from God, an everyday miracle. Like the flowers on the budding trees, like the greening grass and the transforming dandelions, God is at work in our world in everyday miracles.

In nature and in us, God is at work. He is using the rain, the sunshine, the dirt, and the heat to draw us ever skyward, ever toward the sun, His Son. He is giving us what we need to grow.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new each morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.” The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul that seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. Lamentations 3:22-26.

The steadfast love of our Lord. New mercies every morning. A God who loves, saves, and provides. Sometimes it is easy to look at the bare spots. Sometimes, I doubt His transforming power. Sometimes, I take his provision for granted. But when I see these growing plants, He reminds me that He is at work in our world, creating everyday miracles.

Love in Christ, Betsy

February Plans

It’s February – time to plan the garden!

The dampness makes the air chillier than I expected. My shoes sink in the soggy earth, and I think of Irish bogs and Louisiana swamps. It feels like January in the South, but I know the temperatures are rising, the sun is staying visible longer, and soon I will need to plant sugar snaps.

I am planting them early (in February) this year because I want to harvest some before I leave town for two weeks in May. Hopefully the weather will cooperate. If the ground is frozen in a few weeks, I will have to wait; get someone else to harvest the peas.

I am working on a better support system for my sugar snap plants. I plan on using a hybrid system of tomato cages, which prevent the vines from attaching to the fence, and a string trellis, which allows them to grow taller without falling over. I have the poles Nick erected years ago. Now I just need to climb a ladder and attach some twine. Once the ground is less soggy. The ladder would sink, and I would fall today. Maybe later in the week, and before I plant the seeds.

The next question is whether to leave the cardboard or pull it up and use weed cloth where I plant the seeds. Supposedly the cardboard will deteriorate over time, but it hasn’t yet. Nick just let the weeds grow with the peas, but I find that unappealing. The cloth works well, but doesn’t reach under the landscape timbers, thus the cardboard, which does. So much planning!

For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? Luke 14:28.

Am I thinking this much about growing in my faith? That is what Jesus is talking about in this verse. The one before it makes that clear:

Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. Luke 14:27.

Whoever is not willing to prepare the garden and plant the seeds will not have sugar snaps. Whoever does not control the weeds and support the vines cannot expect a healthy harvest. I am willing to do these things for my garden; am I willing to do them for my faith?

Do I go to the church my friends attend? The one with the music I like? Do I prefer the minister who makes me feel good about myself? Is my relationship with God based on what I can get out of it?

Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves.” John 6:26.

Am I following Christ for what he can do for me, or am I willing to put in the work to let his Spirit grow eternal fruit in me?

Am I scheduling time to prepare for God’s presence in my life? Am I planning time to study the Bible, pray with others, pray in my closet alone with God?

Have I planned for support? Not just friends who will listen, but friends that will help me grow tall. Friends that will not let me attach to the earthbound fence but encourage me to grow upward. Am I praying for those friends, seeking out such groups, making the investment of time needed to connect to them?

Do I have a plan to keep worldly worries at bay? Or am I going to let the weeds overtake me?

There is joy and a little trepidation in making these plans, making this commitment. I could fail. It could be too hard. Certainly, there are easier paths. But there is nothing like a fresh sugar snap picked from the vine. There is nothing like the love and joy and peace that only comes from following Jesus.

Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. John 6:27.

Won’t you join me in planning?

Love in Christ, Betsy