Tag: spiritual fruit

Figs!

I head out to the garden when the sun is just barely peeking over the treetops before it gets too hot. The humidity still brings sweat to my arms. I carry a bag but there is little to harvest. All but two of my tomato plants have succumbed to age and heat. The cucumber vines still bear small cucumbers and yellow blossoms, the promise of future fruit, but today, my garden seems as battered by the heat as I am.

I pick one cucumber and deadhead my basil. The garlic is not ready to uproot, and the oregano never took root. Despite my efforts to prune my raspberry, it still grows with a fervor that would be impressive if it weren’t inside my garden fence.

Then I arrive at my fig. It is now over six feet tall. I thought I had bought a “patio” fig tree, but now I wonder if I will need to transplant it. Maybe it and the raspberries. Or expand this area of the garden to wider than three feet.

And what are these growths on the stalk? Are these figs?

I read somewhere not to expect figs for three years. These growths are not ready-to-eat figs, but what promise they hold!

My friends who grow figs tell me that while fig trees thrive in most conditions, how much fruit they bear varies widely. One year they will have an abundance of fruit; the next year only a handful. And, in scientific parley, figs aren’t a fruit because they don’t come from a flower. Figs are the flower itself, inverted inward, containing little crunchies which are the fruit. Perhaps that is what makes them more nutritious than many fruits.

But geek-knowledge aside, these little blobs on their little stems mean my fig is moving in the right direction. And who among us doesn’t appreciate a little affirmation that we are moving in the right direction?

Therefore encourage one another and build each other, as indeed you are doing. 1 Thessalonians 5:11.

So, amid heat and lethargy and the lazy days of late summer, my fig tree proclaims the promise of good things to come. Maybe this year, maybe not, but sometime, God willing.

It’s tempting sometimes to become mired in the swamp of today’s dismal offerings. It’s hot. There is much that could be done, maybe even should be done, but there is nothing that must be done today. No one will care if I spend the day reading or binge-watching detective shows. What is the point of expending effort that undoubtably go unnoticed and unappreciated?

But those little baby figs tell me my efforts are not fruitless. Faithfulness in the little things like watering and weeding and tending my garden does not go unnoticed. Faithfulness in doing the laundry, cleaning the house, and preparing dinner is not unappreciated. Reading my Bible daily and spending time in prayer will bear fruit, maybe not today, but maybe sooner than expected.

So let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest time, if we do not give up. So then, whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for the good of all, and especially for those of the family of faith. Galatians 6:9-10.

Those little figs encourage me that I will have a harvest, but even if they weren’t there yet, I would have held out hope that they would show when the time was right. God is teaching me patience with these perennials. I’m to give them three years to bear fruit. Perhaps, as per Luke 13:6-9, even longer. Am I that patient with other people? Am I that patient with myself?

Back inside the coolness of my air-conditioned home, I push aside the urge to waste the day in worthless pursuits. There are little tasks to be done. There are responsibilities to uphold. Opportunities for faithfulness abound. There are figs on my tree. The promise of a harvest awaits.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Space to Grow

A friend of mine recently posted how her pumpkin and squash vines were taking over her garden.

Vines will do that. The first year my husband and I planted a garden, we put winter squash, summer squash, and cucumbers in a row with no dividers, no fence, and no trellises. They were everywhere. Twisting among themselves, growing across the yard, bearing fruit in the neighbor’s yard.

My friend says her vines have overpowered the rest of her garden, wrapped around the tomatoes, covered the herbs, choked the daintier flowers. Vines such as squash, cucumber, pumpkin, and zucchini grow horizontally, ever outward in search of new frontiers, boldly going where we would prefer that they not go.

Over the years I’ve learned to plant my vines far from the rest of my plant, surround them with fencing and give them something, anything, to climb on. None of this stops them from sending out tendrils into open spaces to explore beyond my boundaries, but it does slow them down and protect the rest of my garden.

At some point, their inquisitive and enthusiastic spirit will redirect its energies into producing fruit – cucumbers, squash, and pumpkins. If you give them enough space, this will happen before they overtake and overwhelm the rest of your garden.

Don’t you know people like that? At times, I am that person.

To my admittedly limited knowledge, no one has developed a less explorative vine, one that will color inside the lines and that knows its place.

As a gardener, it is my job to give these vines the space to explore without letting them infringe on my more sedate plants.

Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you have received… so that God may be glorified ion all things through Jesus Christ. 1 Peter 4:10-11.

Society today tends to value cooperation, collaboration, consensus, and cohorts. But some people need the opportunity to stretch and explore and seek new spaces. And just as my cucumbers are rarely stopped by my fencing, our efforts to constrain such free spirits rarely works. And maybe it shouldn’t. Maybe God made them that way for a reason, just as He made my cucumber vines.

We can encourage those plants to be more sensitive to the needs of those around them. We can give them space to explore where they are not infringing on others. Hopefully, we will encourage them to grow freely and with abandonment in the space provided while we provide a protected space that nurtures our plants with a quieter spirit.

There is room in my garden for diverse types of plants. There is room in God’s garden for every kind of plant. He created them all. He knows what is best for each one of them, and for each one of us. He is working to create the ideal environment for each of us to bear fruit for His kingdom.

There’s a good chance that my space won’t look the same as yours.

For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one, so it is with the body of Christ. But as it is, God arranged the members if the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable. 1 Corinthians 12:12,14,17-18, 21-22.

Good news, my friend. Grow in peace.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Summer Harvest

Tomatoes! It feels like years since I have had a successful tomato garden. Oh, I have picked a few tomatoes and enjoyed them, but it’s been a while since I picked more than I could eat.

My daughter, Kat Bair, writes a blog as part of her job as a ministry consultant. She has written about me not giving up on having a garden just because I have had years of less-than-success with it. I’d never really thought about it that way.

Tomatoes will grow in my yard. I remember years of taking tomatoes with me everywhere I went to pass them along to others. My less-than-success has been due to learning how to do the things my husband used to do, trial and error, new methods, discovering the details that impact success. And the weather, which is beyond any of our control.

This year’s rain has really helped. The squirrels get their water elsewhere. The tomato and cucumber plants have ample water to refresh them on these hot days. Not the steady soaking showers of Spring, but the sudden claps of thunder and downpours brought on by heat and clouds.

If my soaker hose is analogous to reading the Bible and praying every day, these storms are like inspiration and direction from the Holy Spirit, sudden, unpredictable, powerful, restoring.

And the results are exhilarating. Tomatoes! Large Better Boys, Romas and Cherries, smaller Early Girls. Plenty for me and plenty to share!

The point is this: the one who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the one who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. 2 Corinthians 9:6.

It would have been easy to give up gardening over the past years. At times, the only thing that kept me planting and tending and watering was my commitment to you, readers, to write about it.

So, thank you. Your encouragement, your readership, has filled my tomato tray with fruit once more.

You, and of course, God, who sends the rains and the makes the sun to shine and enables the plants to bear flowers and produce tomatoes and cucumbers.

This fruit won’t last. It is here and good for eating for a limited time. I could preserve it somehow, and if food were scarce, I would, but I prefer to share my excess.

I pick out my best tomatoes and cucumbers and bag them up for the people with whom I will share them. A single tomato for those living in retirement homes, more for those at home with children.

I share because that is why God gives us excess – to share with those who need it and don’t have it, whatever “it” may be.

And if we preserve, continue working, continue praying, continue to be open to the soaking of prayer and the sudden storms of the Spirit, God will produce an abundant harvest in each of our lives.

So let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest time, if we do not give up. Galatians 6:9.

So here, in the middle of summer, persevere. Rest, rehydrate, and carry on. A harvest awaits.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Summer Love

You may know it’s summer because the kids are out of school or the Fourth of July is mere days away, but I know it is summer when I have my first tomato sandwich.

Few things compare to the call of a red tomato dangling from its plant. It calls to something deep inside us – Take, eat. For the past few years, the squirrels have been taking and eating, sensing that same call. This year, it’s my turn.

I usually prefer my sandwiches on rye bread, probably Germanic genes expressing themselves, but not for a tomato sandwich. Only white bread will do, a soft and unassuming base to highlight the tang and tart and sweet of the tomato.

Later in the summer when the newness of having tomatoes wear off, I will add basil and fresh mozzarella to my sandwich, but I savor the first tomato sandwich without distractions.

I take a bit and let my taste buds absorb every drop of the tomato’s tang and its salty juices. The tender meat of the tomato fills my mouth and makes my eyes light up. Wow. That is good!

I have been looking forward to this sandwich since I put that little plant in the ground months ago. This sandwich is why I put that plant in the ground. Why I watered it and weeded it and fenced it and draped bird netting over it. All for this sensation.

My brothers and sister, whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance; and let endurance have its full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1:2-4.

At the risk of being sacrilegious, my friends, enduring the struggle of establishing a garden, tending it, and protecting it from predators has produced joy, this first tomato sandwich, lacking in nothing.

The garden isn’t a perfect metaphor for my walk of faith, but it’s a good one. Too often I focus on the grind of gardening, the daily attention it requires, the myriads of things that can go wrong, the nagging doubt that I am doing it wrong, the constant comparisons to other gardens.

But God calls us to tend our own garden. He promises it will be worth it. He encourages us to stick with it because the tomato sandwich it will generate is priceless.

In fact, the fruit that God promises to produce is so wonderful that any effort we may exert to encourage its growth will be washed away in the sheer joy of tasting the fruit. Every effort is worthwhile; nothing else compares.

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. Mattthew 13:45.

This tomato sandwich will soon be gone, and I will want another. A self at peace, a content and restful spirit, an open and generous heart, the joy of loving another, these fruits are eternal. These fruits only God can produce in us.

This tomato, like all my tomatoes, is a summer love. Wonderful, exciting, fulfilling, and short-lived.

God wants to grow eternal fruit in me, fruit that I can share with a hungry world, fruit that enlivens our senses and delights our souls.

By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things. Galatians 5:22.

He wants to grow that fruit in you as well. It may take a little effort on your part, a commitment to continue when it feels difficult or pointless. But one day that tomato will ripen and you will get to savor His love, and Wow. That is good!

Love in Christ, Betsy

Enthusiasm

I thought my cucumbers were enthusiastic plants, climbing their supports and stretching outside the fence, but they are mild in comparison to this raspberry plant!

In her second year, my raspberry plant has already birthed three new plants in the cracks in the cardboard covering. She is almost six feet tall. I sense I need to cut her back, hem her in, trim off the excess.

I have seen articles and studies on pruning, but I skim right past them. Tomato plants and cucumbers don’t require pruning. Although it’s possible they could be better if I did prune them…

Pruning is an important part of growing perennial plants, but I am new to perennials and have much to learn. Seeing this raspberry bush take over my garden and reach into the yard makes me want to learn. This can’t be best for the plant, best for the berry harvest, or best for me.

And yet, her growth is thrilling. Her enthusiasm for growth is contagious. I want to grow with enthusiasm and burst out all over the place!

My mother used to tamp down my enthusiasm on a regular basis, to the point where I felt like a wild pony trapped in a corral. But she understood. She had been a cheerleader in her youth; enthusiasm runs in my genes. Perhaps she was trying to prune me.

He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit, he prunes to make it bear more fruit. John 15:2.

I am tempted to use this as my guide for how to prune. I am sure Jesus’ listeners at the time knew how to prune; they were grape and olive growers. They were being asked to apply their gardening knowledge to spiritual growth. Perhaps that is what the Holy Spirit would like me to do – learn how to prune this raspberry bush, when and how and to what extent, and apply that knowledge to my spiritual life.

Perhaps the goal should not be excessive growth that spreads out everywhere, but a contained healthy plant that produces much fruit. My smaller tomato plants are covered in green tomatoes, while this huge raspberry produces few berries.

And her uncontained growth is casting a shadow on my fig tree, growing straight and true beside her.

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

There’s a chance I, like my raspberry plant, have focused on the wrong thing – expansion verses fruit. There’s the possibility that my naturally enthusiastic self has spread beyond my boundaries and overshadowed another.

The raspberry bush cannot prune herself. It’s as if her enthusiastic nature can’t be contained. And I don’t want to stifle her; I just want her focused more on fruit than expansion. And that will allow my fig tree to flourish as well.

As for pruning my own enthusiasm, Jesus promises that the Holy Spirit will do this if we let him. He will prune us so that we will bear more fruit.

So, I will learn what I need to know about pruning and try to redirect my raspberry plant’s focus. Find the best way to encourage productive growth. Cut out the excess that her enthusiasm has rendered. I need to let the Holy Spirit do the same with me.

When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. John 16:13.

The first thing I need to do is learn. The main thing I need to do is listen. The Master Gardener, the creator of all gardens, the creator of all life, knows what I need to do.

Love in Christ, Betsy

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

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

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