Tag: hope

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

Not Yet

All at once and very slowly. That’s how things seem to happen in my life. Suddenly it is March, and the sugar snaps seeds are in, and the trees begin to blossom. And yet, the trees stay bare. The seeds have not sprouted. My heat is still on. Lent is here, yet Easter feels far away.

Part of me struggles to grasp that this is 2025. When I was I child that sounded like some fantastical future date. Now the days just tick off like any other year. Full of tasks and to-dos and heart-rending conversations and mindless pursuits. Nick has been gone for almost six years, and yet the earth continues to spin. The trauma from last summer feels like old news but is not a year old.

My sugar snaps sit in the ground. I walk to the garden and stare at the dirt. I grab the hose and spray the soil with water. So much happens that I cannot see. So much is out of my control. So much is unknown.

I must trust that the Lord is working. He is at work in my garden, in my life, in the church, in the nation. I must plant the seeds, water them faithfully, and trust.

It’s hard to do when all I see are weeds and dirt and barren branches.

But the sun is shining. The sun shines for more minutes each day. The grass is slowly turning green, and buds have appeared on the tree branches.

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

Of course, I have seen many springs, and many trees in bloom. I have watched sugar snap seeds transform into fruit-bearing vines. I know from experience that these things will happen eventually. And this time of waiting will be forgotten, erased by the swift passage of days. But today, I find it difficult to see what the future holds.

What will happen in my garden, my life, the church, the nation? The garden tells me that what it looks like now is not what it will look like in three months or six months. My garden teaches me that there is a lot happening I cannot see.

My garden teaches me that I do not have the ultimate say over what happens. The future is in God’s hands. Today is in God’s hands. I do my part. I pray, I water, I protect, I care for my garden and anyone God places in my path. But my sugar snaps may not grow. Or they may not grow in the manner I would like them to grow. There may be other factors at work which I cannot see and cannot control.

I have a choice. I can be angry and afraid, wringing my hands and expecting the worst, or I can continue to work and trust God with the outcome.

He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? Micah 6:8.

I choose today to be grateful for the bright blue sky, the birds that fly past my window, and the gentle breeze. I’ll water my garden, love my friends and family, and pray for the church and the nation. I’ll support those who need my help and listen to their stories. I’ll open my heart and mind to what God considers just and kind. And I will trust Him with the outcome.

It feels as if things are moving very slowly. But I know that God can make things happen all at once. All at once, the sugar snap vines will grow, the trees will blossom, and Christ will rise from the grave. All at once, these days I spent unsure about the future will be erased by the passage of time and the glory of what God will bring about.

Now therefore take your stand and see this great thing that the Lord will do before your eyes. 1 Samuel 12:16.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Treasure Stores

The snow still sits in the corner of the yard, under bushes and in the shade of buildings. Diminished snowmen grace the yards of my neighborhood. It hasn’t snowed for a week. The roads are clear and dry but secret stashes of the snow persist.

Here is the south, this is not the normal way of things. In Tennessee, snowstorms are often followed by sixty-degree days. Or the snow turns to rain before it can accumulate, and rain washes any trace of snow from the ground.

But this snow has stuck around. Even as the temperatures reach fifty, stubborn pockets of the stuff gleam white in the daylight.

I’m a big fan of water. Drinking it, looking at it, boating on it, swimming in it, spraying it on my growing garden. Snow, it seems to me, is stored water, delayed water, water saved for another day.

In my yard, it is not saved for long. I am amazed it has lasted a week. But as it melts, I wonder if the grass growing there is grateful for water on a dry day. I know that further north the snow collects for weeks, even months. On the tops of mountains great heaps of it collect.

When the time is right, these stores melt, and the precious gift of water flows into the ground, into rivers, into fields of new crops.

He gives snow like wool; he scatters frost like ashes. He hurls down hail like crumbs – who can stand before his cold? He sends out his word, and melts them; he makes the winds blow and the waters flow. Psalm 147:16-18.

God cares for his earth. He plans for it, protects it, organizes it so that all living things can find their path, their home, their mates. The plants get their rest and then their water. The animals get their shelter and their food. I see the beauty and the design of God’s creation and wonder how anyone could doubt His existence.

God is letting the snow collect during this quiet time. The cold drives us inside; the long nights call us to rest. We, too, can take this time to let God store treasures in us for the future as He stores water in the snow.

There is some scripture you can read today that will water your parched soul in a few months. There is a connection you can make with the Holy Spirit this morning that will bring forth life when your circumstances seem barren in the future. God is preparing us just as He prepares His earth.

The time will come when you need those resources. Just as fires rage and storms destroy, you will face droughts and strong winds. You will lose the power so readily available to you now. So, store up your treasures now. Build your reserves; fatten your spiritual soul.

But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6:20-21.

I find myself tied in knots sometimes, doubting my choices and decisions, anxious about what tomorrow will bring, frustrated at being forced to be the decision maker. My body heat rises and my heart thumps faster. It is then the cool water from a bit of stored snow-treasure refreshes me.

Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today. Matthew 6:34.

Thank you, Lord, for a cold day in which I can store up treasures from You.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Snow Day

I had seen her footprints in the snow but was not prepared to see her beautiful orange-red fur silhouetted against the snow. A red fox!

Foxes have lived by the creek on and off in the three decades I have lived here. Usually, I hear them screaming in childbirth or barking when I get too close. They are wary of humans and quick to hide.

The snow and cold has sequestered us southerners. She must feel safe roaming in the morning light. Of a generation that does not carry their phone, the fox is almost back in hiding before I get a picture.

Once more I am humbled by the wildlife that lives among us. Unseen as we rush about our daily tasks, they are there. Perhaps waiting for the silence of an early morning covered in snow; before the kids are building snowmen; before the dogs are barking at the edge of their invisible fences; before the cars are rushing through the streets.

Such beautiful animals, foxes. So much prettier than the coyotes or the ever-present squirrels. Perhaps their rarity makes them even more beautiful. Cardinals and blue jays are just as beautiful as parakeets and macaws, but so common we sometimes miss their glamour.

Perhaps it just takes this white backdrop to appreciate them.

God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day. Genesis 1:31.

During these days of snow when the newscasters advise us to stay home, I have immersed myself in the stories from Genesis, mostly the stories of Abraham and his family.

What a group of scoundrels! My apologies to those of you who think God only blesses right-living people. Abraham let another man take Sarah as his wife to protect himself! Jacob lied to his father and swindled his brother! Admittedly, this was well before God gave Moses the law or Jesus expanded it, but they knew their actions were wrong. The Bible makes it clear that they knew that they were wrong.

So, Pharoah called Abram, and said, “What is this you have done to me? Why did you not tell me that she was your wife? Why did you say, ‘She is my sister,’ so that I took her for my wife? Now then, here is your wife, take her, and be gone.” Genesis 12:18-19.

This was after God had called Abram, after God had told him he would be a blessing (12:2).

In today’s world, the first families of our faith would need therapy, probably mandated by the courts.

Isn’t it an amazing gift that God should choose such people? Aren’t you grateful the tales of their misbehavior are included in scripture? Does that give you as much hope as it gives me?

God knows I have sin in my past. God knows when pride or greed nibbles at my soul even today. God knows that we live in comfortable mansions while people starve and freeze. God knows we do not always welcome the stranger in our midst. God still calls us. God still blesses us so that we can bless others.

Maybe that is the only reason God blesses us – so that we can share that blessing with others. It certainly can’t be because we deserve His blessings. We do not.

As it is written: There is no one who is righteous, not even one; there is no one who has understanding, there is no one who seeks God. All have turned aside, together they have become worthless; there is no one who shows kindness, there is not even one.” Romans 3:10-12.

And yet God has blessed me with a fox sighting this morning. God has blessed the earth with snow and rest. I am glad I can share this blessing with you this morning. God is so good.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Flawed

A letter arrived the other day, from one of you. It moved me profoundly. God is using these words that tumble from my brain and that is very exciting.

I went to a writer’s conference full of confidence from the letter, only to lose my credit card in the hustle and bustle. I cancelled the card, and ordered a new one, making a list of companies who would need the new information. Then I found the card. I had looked for it; I had looked for it where I found it, but in my panic, I hadn’t seen it. Then suddenly, there it was. Now I have made unnecessary work for myself. There’s a lesson here, but it is hard to learn.

Stop, Betsy. Stop trying to do everything yourself. Stop pushing so hard. Slow down, ease up, fail a little.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness,” so I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so the power of Christ may dwell in me. 2 Corinthians 12:9.

But I confess – I don’t like weakness. I still want to send out the perfect family Christmas card. I haven’t been able to send one out since Nick died. I show the cute pictures of the grandkids. I don’t even take pictures of them when they are screaming. I brag about my kids, my trips, and my friends.

Sometimes I even brag about what God is doing in my life as if I had something to do with it.

But the truth is, my friends. I am a mess. I lose my credit card in my suitcase. I forget to look at my calendar and miss things. Dishes pile up in the sink, old mail covers my table, and light bulbs go unreplaced. I am too physically soft to garden by myself. I am slow to forgive, especially if it’s not me you have hurt. I insert myself into situations that are not my responsibility. I talk too much. Sometimes I covet worldly wealth and acclaim. And, spoiler alert if you don’t know me, I overeat.

I can pretend that none of these things are true, but it wouldn’t make them less true. I share them because I bet there are some imperfections in you as well. What if we could see these imperfections as places where the Holy Spirit could work through us? What if I could stop pretending that I am a put-together person?

What if God is using me, not because I am so wonderful, but because I am such a mess?

Perhaps my weaknesses help me remember my need for others. I can’t do this, whatever this may be, by myself. I am physically soft, slow to forgive, and careless with belongings; I need others to help me achieve whatever God has put on my heart to do.

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 with Christ. 1 Corinthians 12:12.

I don’t have to be perfect, and I don’t have to pretend that I am perfect. I don’t even have to pretend that I have perfected letting others help me. In fact, I may be here to help someone else, not have them help me. One body, working together. The body of Christ in the world. All of us flawed, all of us imperfect, all of us welcomed in grace.

For while we were still weak, at the right time, Christ died for the ungodly… But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. Romans 5:6,8.

It’s okay if you are a mess; we all are. And God loves us anyway.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Unexpected Harvest

I arrived back home from my trip late at night. It was too dark to see what had transpired in my yard while I was away. Storms had ravaged areas to the east; family members still had no power. I live in a flood plain, had the creek overflowed? Flooding waters had destroyed my garden in the past, bending the fencing, floating the landscape timbers, uprooting plants. What would the morning light show?

Tomatoes! My one yellow tomato plant is laden with them. Three separate red tomato plants bear fruit. These amazing plants, which brought me nothing in the summer months, are bringing me red and yellow tomatoes in October!

What an unexpected harvest.

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

As if God wanted to remind me that it is He, not I, who produces tomatoes. I may have turned off the soaker system, but He brings rain. I may have determined it too late in the year, but He brings heat and sunshine. I may have prepared my sugar snap garden for spring, but He is still at work among the tomatoes.

What a joy to have a tomato sandwich, to share this abundance with my friends, to savor the gifts of the garden.

As so many of us fret and worry about international conflicts, the looming election, declining church attendance, shifting cultural norms, political uncertainty, I encourage you to join me in praising God for the unexpected harvests He is producing in our lives.

Has someone been kind to you? Has a stranger helped you? Have you helped a stranger? Has God enriched your life with friends, with shelter, with aromatic scents and flavorful tastes? My guess is that God has prepared a surprise harvest for you as He prepared one for me. We may not see it immediately. It may be dark outside. We may be too tired right now to look. But in the light of day, what a gift greets us.

In fact, what a gift greets us each time we turn our eyes from the problems surrounding us and focus instead on God, on Jesus, on His Spirit’s presence in our lives. The problems are there, and we are called to care for our neighbors, share their burdens, love justice, feed the hungry and provide shelter and food for those in need. We are called to work in the garden. But instead of focusing on our inevitable inability to solve these problems, we can rejoice in God’s presence amid them. We can give thanks for each little tomato He grows.

I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world! John 16:33.

Take a moment today to look for where God is blessing you today. Lift your eyes and look for those ripe tomatoes. See the blessings of friends, or food, or comfort. Understand the gift of being needed, even when it’s challenging. Embrace the gift of rest when it is offered. God is producing an amazing harvest in our lives. Often an unexpected harvest. He invites us to share in the feast of the harvest, to join him at table, to share in His joy. Won’t you join Him?

Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me. Revelation 3:20.

Love in Christ, Betsy

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

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