Tag: trials

Roots

A few years ago, a best-selling Christian author told a story about a tree that had fallen in her yard.

She had installed an underground irrigation system to keep her grass and trees alive. It worked, but the system had encouraged the tree to send its roots out laterally through out the yard just under the water source. While the tree’s shallow roots brought ample water, when the storm came, the tree was unable to stay standing. Its roots were too shallow. To stay upright, the tree needed to develop deeper roots.

The speaker left the story there. We need to develop deeper roots to withstand the storms that life will certainly bring.

The story has stayed with me. What I keep returning to is what caused the tree to have shallow roots. The tree was doomed because it had never been forced to develop deep roots. It did not have to work for the water. There were no dry spells to encourage the roots to dig deep into the ground for hidden aquafers.

The woman meant well watering her yard. We all mean well when we make life easier for others. We care about our plants, our pets, our family, our friends, and even the wildlife around us.

But there is growing research that what we think is helpful may be harmful. Feeding wildlife can hinder their ability to forage naturally (Don’t feed the wildlife!). There is growing evidence that protecting our young children from failure and heartache limits their ability to manage those situations as adults (Let your children fail). And making water too easily accessible for our trees may prevent them from growing deeper roots.

Could this be true in our faith as well?

A woman once told me that she had been skipping going to her big screen church because she just didn’t feel happy enough to sing all that praise music and lift her hands. I wanted to ask her what being happy had to do with worshiping God, but instead I encouraged her to read the psalms.

I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping. Psalm 6:6.

Just maybe it is precisely the times of pain and thirst that encourage us to develop deeper roots of faith.

Can we believe in a God who lets thousands die in flooding? Who lets a child be abused? Can we worship a God who shatters our happy life? How will we know if our life is always easy and successful and well-watered?

When the storms of life come, and they do come, I want my roots to reach deep to find the hidden joys of a relationship with God. There is everlasting water there. It may not be easy water. It probably won’t be easy water. It may not contain the laughter of the water park, but it will bring peace and strength and faith.

Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” John 4:13-14.

Today, I will praise God for those days when He has led me develop deeper roots of faith. I thank Him for those days of drought and heat, of tears and sadness, of doubts and fears that have led me to dig deep and find His eternal water.

Would it be wrong to wish the same for you?

Love in Christ, Betsy

Change

The cucumber plants have died. The pepper plants are dying. It’s time to call the summer garden done and begin preparations for fall.

Change is never easy. The end of something you loved, successful or not, is a loss. The days are over when I can fix or improve this year’s harvest. It was what it was and now I must move on.

This year, that moving on involves work. My fence is broken down and torn apart in places. My soil is diseased and in need of restoration. My body tells me to stop bending over the fence to harvest and develop a means of easier access. So, I have called in my garden helpers, and we will slowly reconfigure the garden. It is too much to do in a day. And I have at best one morning a week to give to my garden. And I have some time before I need to plant again, so I am in no hurry.

This seems to be the way most change happens, slowly, over time, a little bit at a time. Not all change is good, but not all change is bad either. This tearing down of my garden feels destructive. I’m ripping up dead plants, pulling out supporting cages, and tearing down protective fences. This can’t be good, right?

Now I will tell you what I will do to my vineyard. I will remove its hedge, and it shall be devoured. I will break down its wall, and it shall be trampled down. Isaiah 5:5.

But the garden is such a glimpse of a larger reality. I know that all this destruction will enable my garden to produce more and better fruit in the future. I know that this destruction is not permanent. Like re-breaking a bone before you can set it properly, sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better.

We know it’s true, but it’s hard to see when our lives are being ripped up, our support pulled away, and our defenses destroyed. It just feels like destructive change. It feels like judgment.

Perhaps it is judgement, in the sense that I know my garden can produce better fruit than it did this past year. This year’s harvest was fine. I loved the few tomatoes I got, the random cucumbers, the scanty basil leaves, but I know the space has produced better in the past. If I want it to produce better in the future, some destruction needs to happen.

Perhaps God knows that you are capable of oh-so-much more than you are producing right now. Not that what you are giving to the world right now is bad or unappreciated, just that God wants your life to be abundant and your garden to be fruitful.

I am the 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.

The problem, of course, is that the promised benefit is in the future. Right now, all we sense is destruction and judgment.

If, however, our desired goal is a closer relationship with God and if difficulties, change, and disruptions deepen and strengthen that relationship, then we can see them as pruning, as ensuring an abundant future. If our desire goal is a comfortable, easy life, we will not see the beauty in overturning the garden.

The transformation of my garden will take a while. I hope you will continue to join me by reading along. I can’t promise it will be pretty, but I am confident that God will bring something good out of all of it.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Sci-Fi Theology

These growing sugar snaps should fill me with joy. I hate that word “should.” My body aches this morning. I am tired and overwhelmed. I want to stay in bed, sleep all day, and eat a box of girl scout cookies. There is too much to do. I have made too many commitments and set my expectations too high.

Ridiculous really, because I know my life is not that hard. Whenever these emotions bombard me, I think of Sarah Connor in Terminator. Just your average woman who is inexplicably targeted for termination, chased by a larger-than-life villain, and fighting for her life.

Except we know why she is targeted. She is about to do something that will have huge repercussions in the future. The bad guys don’t want her to do it; the good guys do.

Perhaps, just maybe, I am about to do some small act that will have godly repercussions in the future. The bad guys, satan and his demons, don’t want me to do it. God, His angels and His Spirit, do want me to.

Perhaps, I am being bombarded by these negative thoughts because that is how Satan is trying to stop me from doing whatever it is that God wants me to do. And the fact that I am writing this instead of sleeping in my bed is because God’s Spirit has protected me from the attack.

He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him. Mark 1:13.

Unlike Sarah Connor, I may never know what little thing God wants me to do that will influence the future. Probably many of the little things we do accumulate to affect change. For the good or for the bad. And I don’t need to know. I only need to do the little things God calls me to do.

I need to plant seeds. I need to care for growing plants. I need to be kind to the check-out clerk. I need to let that car zip around me without tapping my brakes in anger. I need to call that friend or write that letter. Whatever the Spirit is encouraging me do. Or as Kyle Reese says in the movie, “Come with me if you want to live.”

I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I have come that they may have life and have it abundantly. John 10:9-10.

In what feels like a plot twist but is upheld by scripture, Sarah Connor becomes a strong woman precisely because the Terminator is out to destroy her. Otherwise, she may have remained a rather clueless and shallow young woman. Because she must fight for her life, she builds her muscles and focuses her attention on a greater good.

Perhaps the same is true for us. When we learn to ignore those whispers of doubt and worthlessness, when we develop the muscles to get out of bed and do what is asked of us, when we resist Satan’s attempts to derail us, we are becoming stronger. God sends His Spirit, His angels, and fellow believers to minister to us. They help us become exactly who God knows we can be.

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.

So, I don’t know what little thing the Lord wants me to do today, but I will get out of bed and do what is required. Little things can have big repercussions. And fighting this little battle helps strengthen me for bigger ones.

If you are struggling this morning, hurting, feeling overwhelmed and unprepared, take hope from Sarah Connor. You are about to do something for God. Don’t let the forces of evil stop you.

Love in Christ, Betsy

P.S. I doubt the creators of the Terminator series had any theological intentions. This is God allowing me to appropriate their story.

Stay Alert

I love my gurgling creek, and I love God’s gift of rain. But on days like this, when the rain pounds on the roof and the creek roars as it rushes past, I need to stay alert.

I live in a flood plain. The lovely creeks that meet in my backyard can become a raging river that surrounds my house. It happens about every ten years. The last flood was in 2021, so I am not due for one, but God loves to throw curve balls, so I need to stay alert.

I can’t stop the creek from flooding, but I can minimize the impact. Most everything in my garage is elevated, out of harm’s way. But during the dry spells, things accumulate on the garage floor. On a day like today, I take things to the attic, put things on tables, and move things off the floor.

The first year I lived here, thirty-plus years ago, I was unaware of what living in a flood plain meant. The seller assured us the creek hadn’t flooded in the ten years he lived here. Then my new neighbor called to let me know my kid’s cozy coupe was floating downstream, along with all the other riding toys, and my trash cans. I think that’s called a learning experience.

I have installed new garage doors since 2021, when the food waters poured through the cat door and totaled my prius parked there. These doors are supposed to be strong enough to resist the push of water and have no cat door. Hopefully, they will keep the water out of my garage even if the creek is out of its banks. Maybe I will find out today.

Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man. Luke 21:36.

I must confess I am not alert at all times. I am alert when it rains for several days in a row, or when the clouds drop massive amounts of rain in a short period of time. I become aware when situations alert me to my complacency. The hours of rain push me to move the boxes into the attic where they belong. The ponding water in the yard motivates me to move the grandkids’ toys onto the patio.

Sometimes it takes stormy weather to wake me up. Someone I haven’t quite forgiven shows up unexpectedly. My child challenges some long-held opinions. Failure makes me examine who I am trusting. Storms are like that. They make you take another look around your garage and see if you have left things on the floor. They open your eyes to things God wants you to see.

My brothers and sisters, when 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 many be mature and complete, lacking in nothing. James 1:2-4.

So, I am considering this rainy day a joy. It has forced me to pick up my garage. The rushing water has cleaned the debris from the edges of the creek. The underground reserves are full of life-giving water which will soon transform seeds into plants and bring forth blossoms. Rain is a gift from God. Perhaps all storms are. Even the destructive ones.

They wake us up. They put us on alert. They make us examine what we can do and what only God can do. They force us to address who we are trusting – ourselves or God.

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

Put on your high-water rain boots and join me standing on the rock.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Fertilzer

This time of year, I don’t need to water my garden very often; God waters it regularly. When I do need to, I add diluted Miracle Gro. I don’t know if this makes my garden non-organic, but the plant food is not toxic. At least it’s no more toxic than organic fertilizer, natural fertilizer. Because we all know what true fertilizer is and where it comes from and the diseases it can carry.

One of the benefits of living in a flood plain is that my soil gets renewed every few years, replenishing the nutrients lost to the plants. It’s the upside to getting water in my garage.

Around the turn of the last century, we went through a prolonged period without flooding. Our soil got depleted. Wary of using too much store-bought plant food, Nick purchased a trailer load of manure. We let it sit over the winter, let it mellow so it wouldn’t burn the plants.

What I remember was the stench. And the sense that something mysterious and creepy was happening under that tarped mound in the back yard. I don’t remember ever getting near it. In the spring, Nick shoveled it into the garden and tilled it into the soil.

Until one hundred years ago, that pile of fermenting, noxious yuckiness was what fertilizer was.

Then he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard, and he came looking for fruit on it and found none. So he said to the gardener, ‘See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and I still find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?’ He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.” Luke 13:6-9.

Do you think he grinned when He said this? I imagine the rough fishermen laughing.

Is that what we need at times in our lives when we are not producing His fruit? Do we need our loving and patient gardener to dig a hole around us and fill it with … manure?

Jesus was not giving gardening advice. He had just told his listeners to repent or perish; He’d repeated it. (Luke 13:3,5). He might have grinned at what it takes to make some people repent, but unless that manure worked the fruitless tree would be cut down.

When we are surrounded by noxious yuckiness, when the stench greets us each day, when the tarp in the yard cannot hide what’s under it, it is sometimes hard to see God at work in our lives.

Manure can be toxic, deadly. To plants, animals, and humans. But in the right hands, this filth can be transformed into fertilizer; this poop can help my plants grow, maybe even call me to repentance and save my life.

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purposes. Romans 8:28.

Even floods and piles of manure.

God using ‘bad’ things to call us to repentance does not make them ‘good’ things; floods and manure can still kill you. But they can also bring you closer to God, give you fresh insights and resources, provide nutrients essential for the bearing of fruit.

That’s why Jesus can instruct us to rejoice when we are persecuted (Matthew 5:12). That’s why James can ask us to consider trials a joy (James 1:2). That’s why Paul can encourage us to rejoice in our suffering (Romans 5:3).

Nothing is waste in God’s economy. He can use all that yuckiness, all that deadly, toxic mess in our lives, to bring us closer to Him, to bear fruit for His kingdom.

You can’t always see it when you are in the middle of it but give thanks to God. He is drawing you closer to Him.

Betsy