Tag: spiritual fruit

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

Lenten Seeds

Dirt cakes my nails and sweat drips down my face as I toss the last of the seeds in the narrow furrow. Days of warmer temperatures bring me outside to plant the sugar snap seeds. The dark brown soil welcomes the seeds as they roll into dips and settle into tiny valleys.

Suddenly, winter is ending and spring is on her way. The robins dance in the yard and tiny green scapes sprout from my garlic bulbs. February snow and a late Easter have lulled me into thinking winter would never end. But now the blue skies hold promise. Spring is coming.

I cover the seeds with dirt and lay wire over them to keep the birds away. As soon as the seeds sprout, I will remove the protective wire, but that is weeks away. First the little seeds must sit in the dark ground and let God transform them.

This year, because Easter is so late, the planting of these seeds coincides with Lent. Somehow, the resting of the seeds in the quiet darkness seems appropriate. We think of Lent as a time to give up something, to deny ourselves, to wrestle with our personal demons. But God calls us to that every day (Luke 9:23). Perhaps Lent is better seen as a time spent apart from the world, in the wilderness, in the dark and lonely soil. Because that is where transformation takes place.

Very truly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. John 12:24-25.

Those seeds that prefer the sunshine, the company of other seeds in the packet, and the orderliness of a display rack at the garden center, those seeds will never bear fruit. Those seeds which refuse to get dirty and sit alone in darkness will never transform into healthy plants.

Perhaps that is what Jesus means with his words. It is when we can step away from our clean and orderly lives, when we can spend time away from all our pleasurable diversions, and when we can deny ourselves the comfort of the known, that God gives us a better life.

Perhaps all He wants is for me to seek His approval rather than everyone else’s. Perhaps He wants me to be transformed by His presence and not by the world around me. Perhaps the only way I can become more than a seed is by sitting alone with Him.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may discern what is the will of God – what is good and acceptable and perfect. Romans 2:12.

So, for Lent this year, I going to spend time alone with God, intentionally, daily. I’m going to die to the world around me for a set period of time and spend that time with God. I’ve said it, now I must do it.

I want to be a seed that becomes a fruit bearing vine. I want God to give me the strength to deny myself and win the battle with my demons. I want my words to betray that I spend time with Jesus. (Matthew 26:73)

Are you planting any seeds this Lent? Are you preparing for the coming Spring?

Are you willing to sit alone with God in the quiet darkness and let Him transform you?

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 sees in secret will reward you. Matthew 6:6.

I would ask you to join me, but this is something you must do on your own.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Potential

I hold seeds in my hand. Within them there is the potential to be tall green plants covered in white blossoms and dangling pea pods.

Potential. Growing up, I hated that word. Embedded in the compliment, I heard the complaint. I could do something, but I wasn’t. If I just apply myself, work a little harder, invest a little more, I could become the person they thought I could and should be. But obviously I wasn’t doing that, and I wasn’t the person they wanted me to be. I was, instead, a slacker.

My sense was that they were looking at a sugar snap seed and wanting me to produce tomatoes. Perhaps that is unfair. Perhaps they were just looking at a seed and wanting it to grow.

Here’s the lesson of the seed, though. Me wanting the seed to grow, and it having the potential to grow, does not make it grow. I cannot make that happen. The seed cannot make that happen. Only God can.

We have roles to play. If the seed is not good, or not a sugar snap seed, it will not produce sugar snaps. If I do not put it in the ground and water it, it will not transform. If I do not support the vine’s growth or protect it from predators, the harvest will be damaged. The garden is a cooperative effort between God and me, between nature and the seed.

But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. John 1:12-13.

The seed is not enough, even if it has potential. And my desire for the seed cannot transform it into what I want it to be. God, through the amazing architecture of nature, has embedded a nucleus of a fruit-bearing plant in this seed. He alone gives it the power to become all that it has the potential to be.

God has embedded the nucleus of a fruit-bearing soul in me and you. We can help or hinder the transformation of that seed into a healthy, loving, spirit-filled life, but we can’t make it happen. Not by the will of man.

We need to put that seed of ourselves into the hands of God. He alone knows what we have the potential to be.

And this seed is one of hundreds. I will plant all of them. Hopefully, all of them will be transformed into fruit-bearing vines. Often, when we talk about God’s will for our lives, our purpose, we think we have a unique role. We don’t want to be like everyone else. We want to be special. That is pride, my friend. While every snowflake is unique, it takes thousands of snowflakes to carpet the ground in white.

A garden succeeds when multiple plants bring forth the same fruit.

What would our world look like if hundreds or thousands of us stood together and were loving and kind and peaceful? What if wide swaths of us were patient and gentle and joyful?

The Holy Spirit can produce that fruit in us. That is our true potential. We have been given the power to be children of God. God wants us to be a beautiful garden of healthy trees planted beside the river, bearing fruit continuously, and healing the nations (Revelations 22).

I think that is what God sees when he holds the seed of us in His hands. He sees our potential.

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. Ephesians 3:20-21.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Preparation

I took advantage of our brief window of warm weather Saturday to prepare the garden for sugar snaps. These lovely plants grow too tall for the tomato cages. Laden with fruit, they bend and fall to the ground instead of reaching for the sun.

Once the peas are planted and the cages set over them, I can attach the strings to the cages and let the vines climb them. Of course, I may need the ladder to pick the fruit! Right now it looks like some weird decoration gone wrong.

I may need more strings when the plants are growing. It’s difficult to anticipate, even after having grown sugar snaps for years. There’s always an insecurity that I have done too little or wasted my time doing something not needed at all.

The pictures in the catalogue seduced me again and I ordered lavender plants for the front of my house. When Nick was alive to tend to the vegetables, I tended to the flowers in front of the house. Now that I am tending the vegetables, the flower garden has become rather drab. I may have overcommitted myself (again!), but I needed to order the sugar snap seeds and once I was on the site…  If you give a gardener a seed packet, they’re going to want a root ball.

There are steps that need to happen now in preparation for a garden that will be planted later. There is a garden that needs to be planted in order to have home grown vegetables and blooming flowers later.

A garden, like life, is not instantaneous. To be successful, you need to plan, and you need to prepare. This is a simple truth most of us understand. We learned it by taking tests in elementary school. We learned it on costume day and picture day.

Do we know this about our spiritual journey?

Then the kingdom of heaven will be like this. Ten bridesmaids took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom, Five of them were foolish and five were wise. When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them; but the wise took flasks of oil with the lamps. Matthew 25:1-4.

The wise ones were prepared. They had brought flasks of oil with them. They had strung a trellis for the vines to climb. They had bought the seeds and plants. They had memorized the scriptures. They had learned to hear the still small voice of God.

Are you prepared to meet your maker? The question may make us smirk and roll our eyes, but the question is a real one. Are you? Are you prepared?

What does that even mean to you?

For me, it means that I am letting His Spirit review how I am spending my time. Am I reading the Word? Memorizing scripture? Learning His voice? If I sense the Spirit leading me to do something, am I doing it? Have I apologized to the people I know I have offended?

I can’t do this once. I must do it every day. Every day, I must spend time in prayer and let the Spirit guide me. Everyday I need to top off my oil reserves with some scripture. Everyday, I must visualize my garden growing and prepare for what it needs to thrive.

Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But understand this, if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore, you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour. Matthew 24:42-44.

Join me in taking advantage of today to prepare.

Love in Christ, Betsy

February Plans

It’s February – time to plan the garden!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Won’t you join me in planning?

Love in Christ, Betsy

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

Beautiful!

The air is damp and cool. The outstretched arm of a far-away hurricane has left droplets on my table, dew on my grass, moisture in the air. Far from the raging winds and flooding rains, my yard soaks up these precious sprinkles like the gifts they are.

The birds are noisy this morning. They have found fresh pools of water and are telling their friends. Seeds are plentiful, and light breezes make the flying easy. A mockingbird sits on my garden fence and beckons me, calling my attention to what he wants to show me.

Ripe tomatoes. On a dying plant.

This dear plant is not using her limited resources to make her leaves green and supple, or even to make her stems straight and strong. She is putting all her energy into producing fruit that will benefit others. What a beautiful picture of the Christian life!

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.

Selfish ambition and conceit seem ingrained in my DNA. Perhaps they are – a gift from Eve. Certainly, our culture rewards it. Perhaps mankind has always rewarded it. Success is often defined as achieving your ambitions. But what if my ambition is to serve your interests instead of my own? What does that look like? Does it look like my dying tomato plants?

We all know someone who operates in near obscurity bringing meals to the elderly, clothes to the homeless, Bibles to prisoners. We know that sweet friend that gives tirelessly and without complaint, who is always there to support others, who shies away from all recognition.

This is the example Jesus sets for us. Go the extra mile. Turn the other cheek. Repay evil with kindness. Love one another. Empty yourself and let God’s Spirit fill you. Lay down your life.

This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. John 15:12-14.

This little tomato plant is laying down her life, giving her last efforts, to produce these beautiful tomatoes, to bless me with her gifts. It is so ingrained in her to do this that we rarely credited her for this altruistic behavior. Would that the same could be said about me.

There are moments when we get to witness this beautiful behavior in others. Last week was the anniversary of 9-11. There were many such stories from that day – beautiful self-sacrifice in the face of unspeakable horror. People putting the interests of others ahead of their own interests; people laying down their lives to help others.

God has put that tiny imprint of Himself in us. With the Spirit’s help, we can encourage His imprint to grow in us until we look and act more like Him. Jesus has shown us the way. Jesus is the way.

What a beautiful morning for sharing what God is growing in my life with you. Refreshing rains, cooling temperatures, gentle breezes. Far away a storm is raging. As I enjoy this peaceful moment, I wonder if I can share this generous gift of tomatoes with someone facing strong winds and flooding waters. Perhaps with you.

Thank you, beautiful friends, for sharing your time with me.

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

Peppers

September has arrived and my garden is showing its fall colors!

I see the brown of the dead and dying plants, but also the vibrant hues of the bell peppers, red and orange and yellow.

I am so grateful for these hardy plants that withstood the summer heat and are still growing in my garden. They remind me that God has a time and a season for all fruit.

I love the sugar snaps that come in the spring, encouraging me to keep the garden going. I love the new fruit emerging on the vines and stalks. I love the garlic and basil, the cucumbers and tomatoes that grow throughout the summer. And I love these peppers who transition me into autumn.

It is a beautiful day. Morning clouds have dissipated, and a clear blue sky stretches from the tops of trees to green lawns. The birds call to each other and those pesky squirrels scamper across the yard. I pull some weeds and cut some basil. The fragrant scents fill my senses. What a blessing to spend just a few minutes everyday soaking in God’s gifts in nature.

For what can be know about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. Ever since the creation of the world his eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made. Romans 1:19-20.

Nature constantly reminds me of God’s creativity and His love of beauty. So many different plants and trees and flowers and blossoms and fruits and seeds. All with their own seasons and habitats and needs. The details of a flower petal, the variety of fruits, the interconnectivity of living things – they all bear witness to a creator who far exceeds our limited capabilities. And yet this same God cares enough to give us a variety of tastes and smells and colors, perhaps just for enjoyment, perhaps also for His own.

The skies proclaim His glory but this little patch of garden in my backyard does, too. It has persevered through unseasonal heat and unusual cool. Some of it has faded, some of it has died, and some lives on, still producing, still growing, still healthy.

There are some former interests that are fading in my life. There are some that have died. But others continue, even thrive, producing new and varied fruit. I have done no needlepoint this year, but I published a book. I have yet to harvest a tomato, but I have perfected a pesto recipe. I have thriving fig and raspberry plants. My garlic was successful enough to encourage me to plant again this fall.

Now the Lord said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land I will show you.” Genesis 121:1.

God has not asked me to leave my country or my kindred, but He has led me to some new places, some new interests, some new avocations. He has shown me new things. He has grown peppers of various colors in the September of my life.

Even more, God is teaching me how to continue to grow, continue to learn, continue to produce even in the autumn of my life. He has taught me that the garden can produce even in the winter. Perhaps I will be able to as well.

What a marvelous God we have! What a blessing that He shows us His eternal power and divine nature in the things He has made, even the simple things like red and orange and yellow bell peppers.

If you missed it – I have published a book, Garden Devotions, which can be ordered through Barnes and Nobles, Amazon, or the link found in the menu at the top of this page. If you are willing, leave a review! Many thanks.

Love in Christ, Betsy

No Harvest

I tell myself to persevere, but I am tempted to give up. Predators have stolen my tomatoes once again, despite the bird netting, despite the fence, despite the marigolds, despite the hot sauce. My harvest basket remains empty and despair creeps in.

Why did I ever think I could grow tomatoes? Nick could grow them. We had surplus tomatoes every year. We gave them away to anyone who would take them. I have not harvested any this year except the little cherry ones. I recognize I should be grateful for these little gems. Just as I was grateful for my one cucumber last week.

I should focus on my abundant basil, the peppers growing larger every day, the success of the sugar snaps and garlic earlier. I have so much to be thankful for, why does the lack of large red tomatoes depress me?

The growing season isn’t even over. My tomato plants are still green. They still have blossoms and little green tomatoes. I can redouble my efforts to protect them from whoever is stealing them, but I have lost any expectation of a ripe tomato.

Sometimes, things just don’t turn out like we wanted them to, expected them to.

I’ve been digging deep into the story of Joseph from Genesis. God gave him a dream of leadership, then his brothers sold him into a foreign country as a slave. Talk about life not living up to your expectations! Perhaps I am projecting his imagined despair on my garden troubles. Certainly, the absence of red tomatoes pales in comparison.

But the question remains the same. How do we, how do I, respond?

My brothers and sisters, 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.

And the only way my endurance will grow to have its full effect is if I endure things. Like a barren garden. Because a life without tomatoes is nothing compared to a life without Christ. I must take this challenge and learn from it, grow from it, endure it, give thanks for it even.

This is difficult because I don’t yet know what exactly I am supposed to be learning, if in fact I am supposed to be learning anything at all. Perhaps to not expect to succeed at everything? Perhaps to be grateful for what I do have instead of focusing on what I don’t? Perhaps to learn to persevere, endure in the face of failure?

When anger and condemnation arise in me do I consider myself a failure as a follower of Christ? When I see others falling short of a bountiful crop of spiritual fruit, do I doubt their motives, their commitment, their faith? I still have a garden, even if others have tomatoes and I do not. I am still a gardener. Tomatoes are still growing in my garden. I am just not getting to harvest them. They are not benefiting me personally. How vain to consider it loss if I do not benefit. Isn’t God concerned with all His creation?

Perhaps the fruit you are bearing isn’t benefiting you either. Perhaps God is growing it in you to benefit someone else. Perhaps that is the purpose of all the fruit we bear.

Or He may just be teaching me to endure. If Christ is our model and the perfect reflection of God, consider how much He endured – abandonment, torture, crucifixion, death. God has endured humanity’s failure, betrayal, resistance, refusal to believe and obey. He endures our fruitlessness to this day.

God has not given up on me or you or anyone else in the world. I will not give up on my garden. I will love it and care for it and tend to it. And I will thank God for teaching me to endure.

The Lord is not slow about his promise, as some would consider slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance. 2 Peter 3:9.

Love in Christ, Betsy