Tag: spiritual fruit

A Task Not Done

The man who mows my yard informed me that his truck broke down. He had to wait on parts and for the repairs to be made. Meanwhile, my yard continued to grow.

I had invited some ladies to my house and as the day drew nearer, my anxiety over my yard grew. All the yards around mine were cropped short and looked loved and attended. My yard looked abandoned, unloved.

More than a poor reflection on the man who mows my yard, my knee-high grasses and flowering weeds were a poor reflection on me. I had failed in keeping my yard up to suburban expectations. We can argue about the validity of such expectations, but my un-mowed yard was an embarrassment to me and, I am sure, an embarrassment to my neighbors.

My guests might think that I didn’t care about my yard, that I didn’t value this property. My neighbors probably thought I was an absent landowner. They would doubt my wisdom in not hiring someone else to mow my yard. All because this task has not been done.

What tasks has God given me that I have been remiss in completing?

God calls me to welcome the stranger (Hebrews 13:2), feed the hungry (Matthew 25:35), and love my neighbor (Mark 12:31). When I fail at these tasks, it is not only a bad reflection on me, but also a bad reflection on God.

Does God not care about the world, about the hungry? Is He absent from this world? Why has He not eliminated all the unkind people from His church?

But, of course, the problem is not God. The problem is us. The problem is me. I call myself a Christian, but I have not always loved justice or walked humbly (Micah 6:8). I have not always offered food and drink to those in need (Matthew 25:42). I have not always cared for the foreigners living among us (Leviticus 19:33-34). What a poor reflection I am of the love of God.

I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. Ephesians 4:1-3

Now that would be a yard that would make God proud.

Instead, I am making excuses for why I don’t live that way, why I don’t do what God has asked me to do, what I have told God I will do. Love God with all my heart and soul. Love my neighbor. Love my enemies. Forgive anyone who wrongs me. Turn away from sin. Trust in God’s provision for the day. Am I letting a broken-down truck keep me from fulfilling His desires?

As I was debating how long I would wait before I gave up on my mower and found someone else to tend my yard, he called to say his truck was fixed. He came over just a few minutes before my guests arrived. I thanked him and encouraged him to come more regularly in the future. He thanked me for waiting, for being patient with him. I feel like I have had these conversations with God, where I apologized for my actions, or lack of actions, and thanked Him for His patience. God, in turn, welcomed me, and encouraged me to come to Him more often.

I don’t want to be the servant left in charge of the master’s affairs who spends his time carousing and unkind. I want to be the servant the master finds hard at work when he returns (Matthew 24:45-51). I want to be the one who welcomes the stranger and feeds the hungry, who helps make this world a beautiful and loving place.

I want my actions to reflect well on the name of Christ. Don’t you?

In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to God in heaven. Matthew 5:16.

Love in Christ, Betsy

A Kink in the Hose

The morning is quiet. Only the birds greet my presence in the yard, and their conversations most likely are not about me. A gentle breeze barely moves the leaves on my greening trees and hedges. A layer of clouds mutes the rising sun, but I do not expect rain. It hasn’t rained for days, and warmer-than-average temperatures have led me to the garden while it is still early.

My plants need water.

So, while the birds are still louder than the sound of cars on the nearby road, I take down the hose and water.

As I drag the hose along the garden, watering the garlic, the non-emergent beets, the raspberry and fig, the flow of water slows until finally, right as I am at my sugar snaps, the water stops completely.

I do not panic or fret. The world is not out of water. The city has not cut off my water supply. An angry God has not thwarted my plans. I look back along my garden and see where the hose has folded over on itself, kinked. The knot is not allowing the ever-present water to flow.

I shake the hose because sometimes the problem is fixed that easily. But the kink is too tight, the tangle too pressed for such an easy fix. I need to put down my nozzle and seek out the problem. I walk to the knot and gently unkink the hose, laying it in a line along the yard, allowing the water to flow freely once again.

Only then do I return to the spray nozzle, lift the hose, and send the life-giving water to the sugar snaps.

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. And then come and offer your gift. Matthew 5:23-24

Get the kink out and then the water will flow.

I often don’t think of prayer that way. Sometimes, I talk; He does what He wants. Perhaps I should think of prayer in the same way I think about watering my garden. Life-giving water is available. It can flow through me to encourage the world, or it can be bottled up and clogged by my selfish thoughts and actions. I can twist myself into knots, I can let relationships remain broken, I can hold onto resentments. I can refuse to make amends when I have offended someone. I can block the flow of water.

So often, when the water ceases to flow, when I no longer sense the presence of God, I begin to panic and fret. God may not be real. God is angry with me and has turned away from me. God is refusing to supply His life-giving presence.

Perhaps I need to set down my spray nozzle, leave my offering on the altar, seek out the problem, and rectify it. Am I letting a particular sin knot my life? Does my brother or sister have something against me? Has a habit or thought twisted my relationship with God?

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

God wants to free us from the kinks that knot our lives. Abundant life awaits when the water flows freely, abundant growth, abundant fruit. So, if the water is not flowing today, I will take a moment and ask God to remind me what my brother has against me, to show me the knot in my life. With God’s help, I will unkink the hose and let the water flow freely once again.

Love in Christ, Betsy

The Importance of Water

It rained! Praise the Lord! And the rain stopped for Easter! God is so good!

Silly, letting weather affect my mood so, but I am grateful for the rain – and for the sun.

March was incredibly dry for Middle Tennessee. In a month when heavy rain often causes my creeks to overflow, this year, the third month brought little rain. I found myself carrying pitchers of water for my new trees and watering the garden like it was June.

Plants must have water.

As tempting as it is to fill my mornings with other things, if I don’t include time for watering my plants, they will suffer limited growth and limited fruit. It may take 5, 10, or 20 minutes, but I need to carve out the time to do this. Because not watering my plants may lead to no growth and no fruit.

I am grateful when the rain falls from the sky and relieves me of the obligation to water the garden. Rain is so much more beautiful and natural. But letting the environment, or the weather, determine the success of my garden is not wise. Letting the environment and my daily life determine my relationship with God is not wise either.

For my own growth and well-being, to have any chance of bearing the Spirit’s fruit, I need to spend time in prayer. When prayer doesn’t spring naturally from the rain or sunshine of daily life, I need to make the time to spend time with God. I need to carve out 5, 10, 20 minutes to be alone with God and water my soul with prayer and scripture.

There was a time when I rejected the idea of such a structured prayer time. Prayer shouldn’t be an obligation. I should come to the Lord when praise or despair leads me to Him. My prayer should spring spontaneously from my heart. Wasn’t that the problem with the Pharisees? They had made faith an obligation rather than a heartfelt choice.

But the garden has taught me that as beautiful as spontaneous rain falling from the heavens is, sometimes I need to get out my hose and water.

Sometimes the sunny dry weather we all enjoy can limit growth in my garden. The plants need water and I need prayer. If this does not happen spontaneously, I need to make it happen. Otherwise, I may become stagnate and begin to wilt. Otherwise, I may fail to grow, fail to bear His fruit. All for lack of water, all for lack of prayer.

The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you will be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. Isaiah 58:11.

I encourage you to water your soul today. If God is not forcing you to your knees in praise or despair, take 5, 10, or 20 minutes to get there on your own.

And the God who sees you and hears your prayers will reward you with His presence, His love, and His fruit.

Praise the Lord. He is risen. He is risen indeed.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Good Gifts

The sugar snaps are up, the grass is green, and all the fallen limbs have been removed. Chilly mornings lead to warm afternoons, and Spring is in the air. While the changing weather and blooming trees wreak havoc on my sinuses and force me to keep tissues handy, I love this time of year.

Spring is as if God is rewarding me for surviving freezing rains and arctic blasts and the barren landscape. I did not give up hope. I planted seeds in anticipation of warmer weather. The time for sleeping is over – wake little bunny! (One of my granddaughter’s favorite songs.)

Now new plants dot my yard and my garden like Easter eggs waiting to be discovered. Will they grow? What will they look like? How will they taste? Like Jesus’ followers in this passion week, I know change is coming. Something marvelous is about to happen, but it may not be what I thought it would be. It may not even look all that marvelous at first. I have never planted beets or rhubarb before. I may not even recognize the leaves when they break through the ground and begin to grow.

There are times the unknown scares me. I will research what rhubarb and beet plants look like, but that is different from seeing them. Jesus had told his disciples repeatedly what awaited him in Jerusalem, but they still found themselves unprepared and afraid. Not until they saw His risen person could they rejoice in the amazing gift God had given them, given us. But this week, Holy Week, we watch in fear and hope for what God is doing in our midst.

My garden is a pale comparison, a hazy glimpse into God’s love of surprising us with wonderful gifts. Each seed, each root is like an easter egg waiting to be found and opened, hiding its secret gift for me to find.

If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him! Matthew 7:11.

I know these emerging plants are good gifts given by God. Their healthy green leaves face the sun; their tendrils reach for the trellises set around them. They seem joyful, eager to get on with growing taller and bearing fruit. They are growing in fluctuating temperatures and windy days. They are growing in the sure knowledge that they are becoming what God intended them to be – bearers of delicious sugar snaps.

Can I say the same?

Holy Week brings all our emotions into play. Praise and adoration, fear and uncertainty, sorrow and despair, disbelief and amazement, joy and hope. A whirlwind climaxing in the resurrection of Jesus proving Him to be the Son of God, the Son of Man, the Christ. What an amazing gift hidden for those of us who believe, our Savior, the most wonderful gift of all.

These sugar snaps, the greening grass, the warmer temperatures, these are all gifts from a generous and loving God. The encouragement I take from these little plants is a gift as well, as is the anticipation of discovering new plants and new recipes. I suspect He has good gifts in store for you as well. They may be hidden in plastic eggs, scattered across the landscape for us to find. We may not know the gift until we open the egg, plant the seed, try the new thing. We may not know the gift until we have passed through fear, uncertainty, sorrow, or despair. But God gives us good gifts. Keep looking.

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

Love in Christ, Betsy

Gray and Chilly

In the warm weather that brightened our spirits last week, my sugar snaps pushed through the soil and rejoiced with me. But Sunday, I covered them with the protective gauze that keeps them warm and lets in sunlight. A forty degree drop in temperatures would challenge these young plants. I would do what I could to lessen the shock.

This is what March is all about in Tennessee. 75 degrees one day, 35 degrees the next. I would like to say that such weather changes don’t affect me. Unlike my sugar snaps, I live in a climate-controlled space with many resources to protect me from the wintery weather. But the truth is this gray and chilly day has me feeling, well, gray and chilly.

Intellectually I know that such feelings can only affect me if I let them. I am not a sugar snap plant blown by the wind and left to the elements. In my core, I am a child of God, beloved and adopted, chosen to live in a royal priesthood. But today, I am a whiney old widow whose joints hurt.

Usually, when I am feeling gray like this, I wander outside and listen to the creek and the birds. I feel the wind and the sun on my face and stick my hands in the dark, wet soil. But it’s 35 degrees outside and I want to stay inside.

Because I lost three trees to the ice storm in January, I decided to plant two new ones. Not hackberries like the ones I lost, but fig trees. I have a dwarf fig in my garden, but I am planting the not-dwarf kind of fig tree in my yard. They arrived Saturday when it was warm. The temptation was to plant them right away, but I am observing Saturday sabbath for Lent, so I let them sit inside.

Today, I am grateful that these young plants are not exposed to the chilly weather yet. I sense a little providence in their protection. And today, their healthy green leaves and promises of future beauty, shade, and fruit are lifting my spirits.

Even when it is gray and chilly, even when my emotions urge me to curl up on the couch, a young plant reminds me of what opportunities lie ahead – opportunities for warmth, for growth, for bearing fruit. No matter my mood, God gives me the opportunity to care for others, to exhibit joy and love, and to bear fruit for His Kingdom.

It may not look like much right now, but these sugar snaps will grow tall and these small fig plants will become trees. The chill will pass; the sun will burst through the clouds and warm the ground. A little providence and faith will see me through the gray days into His light.

And not only that but we can also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. Romans 5:3-5.

Warmer days are ahead.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Oops!

The garlic is up! I have already cut the scapes once, but I will cut them a few more times before I let them grow unbothered.

The thick green leaves encourage me that there are hearty bulbs below the surface. This especially encourages me because my garlic crop was a failure last year. Not one sprouted. I didn’t want to write about it because who wants to broadcast their failure? Besides, I wasn’t sure what the problem was.

Was there too much water? Had the cardboard poisoned the soil? Had some underground critter eaten them? The options for blame were plentiful.

My previous year’s crop had been successful. When last year’s bulbs came in, I planted them just as I remembered planting them the year before, being careful to always plant the bulbs point down as I remembered doing it the year before. Spacing them out, covering them with dirt, and watering frugally.

That’s the problem with memory. This year, I read the instructions again and watched the video on garlic planting. Perhaps I had done something wrong. Indeed. Garlic bulbs are always to be planted point up. And I had so carefully planted them point down. Poor bulbs! Breaking from their shells to find only darkness and dirt instead of the sunlight they craved.

Do not be wise in your own eyes: fear the Lord and turn away from evil. Proverbs 3:7.

Less than a minute looking at the video with all the bulbs point up and I saw the error in my ways. I had trusted in myself, been wise in my own eyes. I wonder where else this is happening.

How often am I confident that I know what to do, and how often is that in error? Sometimes the results are not as clear cut as no garlic harvest. Like the Pharisees and Sadducees and scribes, I love to study scripture and contemplate theology. But their confidence in their own wisdom made them unable to imagine that God was doing something wonderful in their midst. Jesus broke the Sabbath laws. Jesus touched lepers, ate with sinners, talked to Samaritans. They knew this was wrong.

Is it possible that in my self confidence I have “misremembered” what the scriptures teach? Secure in my understanding, have I judged as right something that is wrong, or judged as wrong something God is using to further His kingdom? Have I been confident in planting my bulbs upside down and then been surprised they didn’t grow?

There is hope. I returned to the basic instructions, those instructions I thought I knew but didn’t. I looked at the picture and could see where I was wrong. Prayer, Spirit-led Bible study, conversations with those whose gardens are full of fruit, all of these can enlighten me to the error of my thinking. And I need to be humble enough to admit I was wrong, brave enough to admit my failure.

Because when the life I am living isn’t producing a harvest of the Spirit’s fruit, I need to examine what the problem is. It may be as simple as pointing the bulbs in the right direction – toward the sun, toward the Son.

Jesus said to them (the Sadducees), “Is this not the reason you are wrong, that you know neither the scriptures nor the power of God?” Mark 12:24

Love in Christ, Betsy

Pruning

Most of the fallen limbs are gone and only one downed tree remains to dismantle, a task for those with chainsaws. Now I need to tend to my house plants.

While most survived the four frigid days without heat, one of them suffered considerable damage. It lived closer to the window, closer to the cold. As a side note, the Christmas Cactus seemed to love the cooler temps!

I am grateful that I did not attend this plant immediately when it was all dead and brown. I thought I would have to dispose of it. But in the weeks since power was restored, new green leaves have appeared. A white blossom has even presented itself. “I’m not dead yet!”

So, I got out my scissors and pruned off all the dead leaves and brittle stems. What is left is small but healthy.

It seems an apt practice for Lent. That is what we are called to do in our lives. Cut away all the dead waste, the useless pursuits, the brittle branches. Leave the healthy, holy part of lives to grow unfettered by dead-end activities.

Let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race set before us. Hebrews 12:1b.

And now that the dead leaves are gone, the healthy green leaves shine. They are what I see when I look at my plant. Not brown, wilted leaves and brittle stems, but healthy, vibrant growth. Isn’t that what we what others to see in us? Not our decaying, worthless activity, but the beauty of a healthy and holy life, love, and growth?

It just took getting rid of the other stuff.

The old leaves weren’t “bad.” They had brought beauty to my home for years. But things had changed and they were no longer the source of joy they had once been. In a sense, they were reminders of what once had been but was not now.

Am I cluttering my life with reminders of what once was? Not just my home, but my mind? I am slow to give up those things that were once precious to the people who were precious to me. Not that I care about Royal Dalton figurines, but my mother did. Not that I love antlers and deer heads, but Nick did. And those toys my children loved? I still have them.

I think it is okay for mementos from the past to occupy some physical space. But my mental space needs to be filled with God and His desires for today, not cluttered with joys and regrets from the past. I need to prune back the brown and brittle leaves and let the healthy new growth shine.

It may not look like much. At least right now. But God has taught me that when I strip away all the excess, dead stuff, the living, vital things grow.

I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. John 15:1-2.

And that is what I want to do – bear fruit for God’s kingdom, bear the Holy Spirit’s fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, and Christ-like living. (Galatians 5:22)

I pray that each of us lets God guide us in the pruning of our lives.

Love in Christ, Betsy

The Little Things

It’s not a new thought but it has taken me years to truly absorb the impact of it. God cares about the little things.

God cares about microscopic plankton and miniscule flowers. He cares about what you eat, how you prepare it, and why. He cares about who you share your food with. He cares about your random thoughts and how you react to traffic. He cares about all the things you care about because He cares about you.

God gave His people intricate details about the tabernacle and the temple because He cares about how we meet with Him. He gives us instructions on righteous living because He cares how we conduct ourselves. He wants to be a part of every detail of our lives, not to control us but because He loves us that much.

How was your day? Did you get angry when you were ignored? Were you aroused by that love-making scene on tv? Did you feel proud when your friend complimented your new handbag? Did I even think about God during the day?

For our struggle is not against enemies of flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Ephesians 6:12.

And those cosmic powers of darkness seep into our lives through the little things.

If I buy outdated seeds because they are cheaper, I will have a poor sugar snap crop. If I plant my tomatoes in the shade, they won’t produce well. If I don’t make the effort to water my plants, they will die. Little things with big consequences.

It does matter how I spend the next hour. It does matter how I talk to strangers, my friends, my family. It does matter what I worry about, what I strive for, what I seek after. So often, I don’t even take the time to determine that; I just act, like an animal running on instinct.

But these little battles matter. Every little win makes us stronger and loosens the tempter’s grip on us. Each time we call on God, each time we invoke the name of Jesus, each time we pray with the Holy Spirit, we claim a little more space for God to grow in us.

As we remove each rock of resentment, every stone of covetousness, and the weeds of worry, we create a beautiful garden for God to grow His fruit.

His master said to him, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.” Matthew 25:23.

The little things matter. The little things lead to big things, good or bad. You know this. I know this, but it is so easy to forget. It is so easy to think God doesn’t care about little things, like if I eat this whole bag of chips or if I call that person an idiot or if I watch that movie. He cares, friend.

He wants us to win every battle, seek first the kingdom (Matt. 6:33), and bring everything to Him in prayer (Phil. 4:6). For the little things make up the big things. The little things come first.

God cares about the plankton. He cares about the fish who eat it and the bigger fish who eat them. He cares about the fisherman who caught that fish and you who serve that fish to your family. He cares whether you thank Him for that fish.

Little things make a big difference.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Peace

The beach is empty in the chill morning air. Only the bravest, bundled in jackets and scarves, take their dogs on long walks beside the lapping water. Snowbirds gather here this time of year. The bright sun breaks through the wind and warms my soul if not my feet.

I love the beach in winter. I can hear the waves and look out to sea, mesmerized by the rhythmic sound. In the summer, I would feel the pull of swimsuits and sunscreen and sandcastles, dragging my uncooperative beach chairs to the sand and staking out my spot. But this morning, I sit in my flannel nightgown and cradle my coffee as I soak up God’s beauty through large windows.

O Lord, how manifold are your works! In wisdom you have made them all; the earth is full of your creatures. Yonder is the sea, great and wide, creeping things innumerable are there, living things both small and great. Psalm 104:24-25.

This is what I want to bring back with me from my beach trip. Not a perfect shell or fresh caught shrimp. Not even the taste of a harvested-that-day oyster from the newly opened Apalachicola Bay. I want to bring back this peace, this assurance that God is good, that His creation is good, even the parts I don’t like or understand. I want to carry home my separation from the tv and the clock, from talking heads and fear mongers.

Already as the sun climbs higher in the sky, the sounds of hammering and buzz saws from the house being built nearby drown out the sound of the waves. My very short to-do list pulls me from the view of the horizon to more mundane sights. Perhaps that is the way with peaceful communion. We can’t stay in it to the exclusion of the world around us. But we are called to return to it as often as we can.

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

Perhaps I can take a little of this trip home with me. Perhaps, I don’t need a trip to the beach to sense the closeness of God. I know I sense Him in my garden when I smell the fresh turned dirt or taste a crisp sugar snap. I know I sense his presence in waterfalls on the lake, in the call of the mourning doves, and the rustle of the wind in the trees. God is, after all, everywhere at all times and with us to the end of the age. I don’t need to go to Him. He is already here with me, with you.

The point, then, is to take the time to sit quietly in His presence. To quiet our fears and our constant churning, to turn off our phones and watches so that we can soak up the presence of God.

Can I be still for ten minutes? Twenty? An hour? At the beach, I can sit and watch the waves for an hour. On the lake, I can soak up the sunshine for an hour. In the garden, I can tend to my plants and enjoy their growth. In the woods, I can take deep breaths and admire the beauty of trees. I can immerse myself in His Word, or in music that elevates my spirit. There are so many ways to reconnect with God, to bolster the Holy Spirit within me, to give Him time to grow and bear fruit in my life.

The fruit of peace. Like the peace of watching the sun sparkle on the water, of hearing the waves lap against the shore, of hearing the birds all to each other, of watching a plant grow.

O Lord, our Sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth! Psalm 8:1.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Just Do It

For every inclination we have to ‘do something,’ we have an equal and opposite inclination to not do it. Call it the physics of human impetus. Sometimes that is our conscience or the Holy Spirit warning us of the potential hazards of an action. Sometimes it is our lazy selfishness or fearful anxiety that prevents us from moving forward.

Nike is urging us to overcome that second form of inertia. Don’t let laziness or selfishness or fear or anxiety stop you from stepping out in faith. Just do it. Plant the garden, plan the trip, make the call, take that first step. Just do it. (In Nike’s case, put on their shoes and exercise!)

I have had people tell me that they want a garden, but they don’t have one. They don’t have the room or the time. They have tried and failed in the past. It seems like too much work. Growing something doesn’t necessarily involve a lot of work unless you choose to let it. You can grow tomatoes in a pot on your balcony. You can grow herbs on your kitchen sink. Yes, you will get your hands dirty on occasion, and you must remember to water your plant, but beyond that, how large and diverse a garden you have is up to you.

What is necessary is the decision to do it. Carve out space in your yard. Buy a pot and a starter plant. Set aside a time to water. If you are concerned, unsure if your inertia is fear or sensible caution, start slowly. One plant. In a safe place.

The beauty of God’s creation is that He made the seed with the desire to become a fruit-bearing plant. Our “work” is simply to let it do what it was created to do. Our work is to clear out those things which prevent that seed from becoming all that it can be.

Your relationship with God, Father, Son, and Spirit, your spiritual growth, the manifestation of the Holy Spirit’s presence in your life is the same. We can make it seem like a big, difficult, time-consuming thing and make excuses for why we don’t invest in that relationship. Or we can set aside a small space on our counter or on the balcony and plant that seed.

Pray. List your concerns. Tell God your hopes and fears. Read His word. Listen to his voice. Have a conversation with Him as you would with a close friend. Give the seed of His Spirit within you a little space to grow, a little water.

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 before your God? Micah 6:8.

It’s not a long, complicated list.

We may look at someone else’s huge, beautiful garden and think we could never do that. That may be true. God may not be calling you or me to do that. But that should not stop us from growing basil on our windowsill. The fact that some are called to be missionaries in difficult situations should not stop us from taking ten minutes in the morning to sit and talk with God.

Just do it.

Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rains fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on that rock. Matthew 7:24-25.

Love in Christ, Betsy