In the Garden

It is peaceful in my garden. The birds sing and the leaves rustle in the breeze. I pull tomato cages and store them for next year. I sit on the ground and yank the crabgrass roots that run along the fence line. I’m extending the cardboard under the fence this year. To do so, I need to disentangle the fence and the landscape timbers from the crabgrass tentacles.

The activity, the fresh air, the smell of dirt calms me. I feel connected here, connected with the earth, connected with God. Here in the garden, I work, and God provides. I sense my place in the world. Not a world of chaos and panic and accusations, but the world our God created. A world of harmony and interdependence and natural rhythms.

Here in the garden, the cooler weather and shorter days have put even the hardiest pepper plant to rest. It’s November and the garden soil is seeking rest and recovery. Me, too. This will take some effort on my part, a stepping outside, a stepping away. Some intentional action to disentangle myself from the world’s ropey tentacles.

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

By the time you read this, the voting will be over. We may know who our next President is, we may not. Either way, I am sure those who earn their living talking about politics will be busy. Here in the garden, the results of our election don’t matter much. In this space, it is just my hands in the earth, my mind on God.

The tension between being in the world but not of the world is real. Who our representative is, who our president is, matters. How we treat our citizens, our visitors, our allies all matter to the extent it reflects our relationship with God. And as Christians, as followers of Jesus, it is okay to disagree on the best way to show His love. As long as we can agree that He calls us to love.

Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. 1 John 4:7-8.

My muscles strain as I pry the landscapes timbers from the ground. Over the past year, they have become embedded in the yard, some of them decaying, returning to the soil. They don’t want to be moved. But I don’t want weeds invading my garden. Once pried free, I push the cardboard under the fence, under the timber, extending beyond the garden into the yard.

Am I doing this in my life? Am I ridding myself of weeds that entangle, intrusions that sap the nutrients, God’s goodness from me? Am I creating and maintaining a peaceful garden in my life? Am I extending my peaceful garden into the larger world?

I take a deep breath and rest from my labors. I can hear squirrels rustling the tree branches. A dog barks, and the voices of children rise from a nearby church. I smell the dirt, the remnants of tomato and basil and marigolds. What a beautiful world. I open my eyes and see a bunny dart along the creek bank, see the murmuration of birds swooping in the sky. I wonder if we could fly in such a unified manner, if from a distance we do.

It is peaceful here in the garden. But I can’t stay here all day. The world calls. Things to do. People to see. Love to give.

It’s been a good morning. Another section of my garden is ready. A few more frosts and I will plant the garlic. A few more weeks and my family will gather for Thanksgiving. I will be ready. My garden is resting and at peace.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. John 14:27.

I pray your November is peaceful, dear friends. I pray you take the time and make the effort to create a space for God’s peace in your lives. It’s a beautiful world. He’s a loving God.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Netting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. John 13:34-35.

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

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

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

Love in Christ, Betsy

Weeds

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

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

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

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

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

I am tempted to throw up my hands in defeat.

But I don’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Betsy

Ancient Remedies

There is a newish trend coming out of Japan – forest bathing.

It seems the overcrowded, performance-driven Japanese culture has resulted in high blood pressure, anxiety, and nervous disorders. To combat this, doctors have been prescribing forest bathing. The doctor orders the patient to go outside into the woods and soak in nature for thirty minutes. Take deep breaths, smell the wood and rot and flowers, rub your hands along tree bark, dig your toes into the moss and dirt. Instead of planning your next project, making lists of things to do, or replaying past conversations, focus your mind on the beauty around you. Use all your senses to immerse yourself in the woods.

Even as I avoid the cicadas buzzing in the trees and covering the ground, I try to apply a little of this medicine to my life. Daily rain has kept the mowers away and my yard is awash in white clover blossoms. As I inhale deeply, the faint scent of honeysuckle greets me from the hedgerow. The almost-rain humidity leaves a sheen on my arms and dampens the back of my neck.

In C.S. Lewis’ Screwtape Letters, the demons bemoan their failure when their target takes a walk in the woods.

The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork. Psalm 19:1.

But if the cicadas are keeping you inside today, let me suggest another remedy for relieving stress and anxiety – God bathing.

Non-believers might substitute meditation for God-bathing, and certainly sitting quietly, beathing deeply, will calm your body and reduce stress.

But just as forest bathing is a better cure than meditation, God bathing is better yet.

Stop your daily activities for thirty minutes and sit quietly with God. When you still all the activity in the front of your brain, then the deep-seated causes of unrest can emerge from the recesses. Give this to God. Hand it like a child would hand over a cicada shell. No words are necessary. Your loving Father knows, and He can help.

Read a bit of scripture and let it soak in. Rub your hand along its bark and smell the scent it offers. Put yourself in the scene. Imagine hearing these words for the first time. Hear the murmurs of those around you, sense the sheen rising on your arms and on the back of your neck.

Imagine being in the presence of God. Imagine the heaven of Revelation, the new earth, the celestial bodies, the thousands of martyred worshipers.

Imagine talking with Jesus on a dusty road as you trudge along, weary, and disappointed. Let Him explain the scriptures to you, opening your eyes to all that God has told us about Himself. Does not your heart burn as He reveals Himself to you?

The prescription for forest bathing may be a new thing, but God bathing is an ancient remedy.

Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of the scoffers; but their delight is in the law of the Lord and on his law they meditate day and night. They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper. Psalm 1:1-3.

Dig your toes into the soil of the scripture and feel what grows there. Take a deep breath of His amazing love that draws you closer and closer, no matter what you have done or been or desired. Sense His arms around you. Feel Him lift the weights from your shoulders and blow a cooling breeze on your sweat-soaked face. Bathe in His love, care, and concern.

Would you consider this your prescription? Spend thirty minutes today God bathing. God can do amazing things in our lives if we give Him the chance.

Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. John 14:12.

Betsy

A kink in the Hose

It seemed like the perfect day. I could feel the warm sun on my face and the gentle breeze ruffling through my hair. The hedge row was in bloom, sending fragrant scents across the yard. My sweet peas were thriving; my summer plants were growing; moderate temperatures encouraged me to spend the time outside watering my plants by hand.

Then suddenly, no water came through the hose. I was standing there, holding the hose, pressing the handle, but nothing was happening. I turn and look at the hose, stretched out on the ground. Sure enough, it has twisted, creating a kink and blocking the flow of water. Never once did I think that there was no water to be had. The water was there; a kink in the hose was blocking it.

Why, then, when my prayers seem unanswered and my cries seem to fall on deaf ears, do I presume God has turned away and is not listening? Instead of thinking that God has stopped the flow of water, shouldn’t I first look for the blockage on my end?

You ask and do not receive, because you ask wrongly, in order to spend what you get on your pleasures. James 4:3

For the past few weeks, every time I settle into a prayer time, I remember a particular person and think I should reach out to her. For some reason even I can’t explain, I have yet to do so. So this morning, before I prayed, I wrote them a note and put it in the mailbox. It seems pointless to pray for God’s direction when I do not follow the instructions He does give me. Perhaps this small act of obedience will unblock the hose and allow the Spirit a larger presence in my life.

So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, then come and offer your gift. Matthew 5:23-24

God hears every prayer. God stands ready to pour out His presence into our lives. While God can block the flow of water to accomplish His end (think Moses), these seem to be rare occurrences. It seems more likely that we are blocking the flow; we have twisted and constricted ourselves, preventing God from flowing through us.

Consider too that what we ask may be outside God’s plan. God has a much bigger picture than we do; He sees all people at all times in all places. He sees the unseen battles waging amongst us. Would not each of us have prayed that Jesus be spared His misery at the hands of the Roman soldiers? Did not even Jesus pray this? But there was more at stake than Jesus’ health and comfort. Prayer is not about getting God to do what we want Him to do; prayer is not about getting God to do our will.

Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet not what I want, but what you want. Mark 14:36

I shake the hose. When that doesn’t work, I find the twisted spot in the hose and untwist it. I stop wasting time holding a blocked hose and correct the situation so the water will flow. How easy that seems in the garden; how sometimes difficult that seems in my prayer life.

The water flows freely now. The plants are getting their life-giving water. I love to see the blossoms and the fruit on my sweet pea plants. The picture above is of the first blooms on my plants. The sideways growing plants found their way toward the sun and bloomed first, before their fellow plants growing closer together. God is amazing, is He not?

Hopefully, the water is flowing freely in your life. If not, perhaps take a moment today to review your situation and untwist the hose.

Betsy

Thirsty?

As soon as those seeds go in the ground, they need water. Every day. This is not some suggestion for a healthier plant; this is the difference between life and death for your plant. Water does not provide an additional benefit for your growing plant – water is essential.

Without water, that dried up seed remains a dried up seed. Without water, the flower inside that tiny seed will never burst from its shell and reach for the sun. Without water, that seed never becomes a plant, never grows, and never bears fruit.

Plants know they need water. They send roots deep into the ground to search for it. The trees near my creek send their roots toward the water there, breaking through the banks to find this precious resource.

Sometimes, it rains. Water comes from the heavens to nourish and transform my plants. Especially in the Spring, we can expect rain on a fairly regular basis. It’s as if God knew that as all these deceptively dead plants came to life, they would need water to enable the transformation.

But I don’t depend on rain to water my garden as it grows. I am grateful when it rains; I am grateful when the watering of my garden happens naturally, spontaneously, without effort on my part. But on those days when the rain doesn’t come, I get out the hose.

I know that as the plants grow, the need for water increases. Daily, I must get out the hose and water my garden. Because water is mandatory if I want my garden to survive, if I want my garden to thrive, if I want my garden to produce.

Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. Luke 18:1

Prayer is like water to those who want to grow in their spiritual faith. Prayer is not some suggestion for a healthier faith – it is essential.

Without prayer, your dried up spirit remains dried up. Without prayer, the flower inside your soul will never burst from its shell and reach for the sun. Without prayer, that seed of faith will never become a plant, never grow, and never bear fruit.

We sense we need prayer. We want to break through the barriers around us and reach for that connection, that communion with God. Our soul seems to shrivel without it.

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

Sometimes prayer seems to leap spontaneously from our hearts. Often these are prayers of praise and thanks; sometimes these are prayers of anguish and distress; many times they are prayers of concern and fear. I am always grateful when prayer happens spontaneously, without effort on my part. But on those days when the prayers don’t come of their own, I get on my knees.

I know that as my faith grows, my need for prayer increases. Daily I must set aside time to pray, to commune with God, to bring Him all my concerns, and listen to all He has to tell me.

Because prayer is mandatory if I want my faith to survive, if I want my faith to thrive, if I want my faith to produce.

Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with thanksgiving. Colossians 4:2

As I water my new little plants, I can sense their roots growing deeper, anchoring them in place. I see the young sprouts bursting from the seeds, breaking through the hard shell and heavy ground. This is joy; this is hope.

I will remember to water today; my soul is thirsty.

Betsy

Dig deeper on prayer: Matthew 6: 5-14, Matthew 7:7-11, Matthew 11:25-27, Matthew 26:36-46, Mark 1:35, Ephesians 6:18, I Thessalonians 5:17, Philippians 4:6, Hebrews 4:16