Monday, July 1, 2013


I told My Love I wanted a garden.  I conned visiting guests into casually bringing up the subject so as to encourage him it was a good idea.  He still resisted.  And then one spring day he decided a small little garden in our huge back yard wasn't the worst idea in the world.  He chose the location.  He decided the size.  He planted the seeds.

I was mad.  I refused to participate in it at all.  

What I had hoped was going to be a neat homeschool experience wound up bruising my pride and so I pouted.  It was ridiculous really.  I mean, I should have been celebrating that My Love had finally agreed to let us grow a garden.  But instead I resisted because I wasn't the one in control of it all.  It was ugly.  In my heart (and out loud), I hoped the garden would be an epic fail.  That would show him.  I mean, in my opinion he did it all wrong and just plowed forward without any planning.  

God showed me instead.

There was growth.  In this tiny plot of land in the corner of our yard, plants shot up out of the rocky earth on top of each other and they flourished even without advanced planning by the sower.  Tomatoes are growing on top of squash on top of bell peppers on top of carrots.  But there is evidence of growth.  God sure showed me.  The circumstances weren't ideal.  The space was too small.  The seeds were planted too close together.  There wasn't enough rich soil on top of the rocky dirt.  

But God grew something beautiful and delicious from nothing and it didn't have a thing to do with me.

Something happens when you grow your own food.  You do end up becoming invested in the process. You watch its growth and celebrate each developmental milestone.

Then up pops a late bloomer that you weren't expecting.  You cheer it on and water it tenderly hoping it will produce a crop equal to its nearby behemoth neighboring relative.  You wait and you watch. What is going to happen?

Then there is the plant that grows in size before it fully ripens.  You would have been satisfied with the juicy red fruit two weeks ago and yet it assures you it has more growing to do before it is ready to be plucked from the vine.  You wait and you watch.  What is going to happen?

There is the lettuce that first grew like a normal head and then changed later in the season and started growing tall toward the sky trying to reach closer to the sun.  It almost looks too crazy-radical to eat and yet once cut from the earth the lettuce leaves look the same in the bowl as the previous bunch.  I wonder what made it change course.  You wait and you watch.  What is going to happen?

Nearby the patio is a hanging basket of strawberries that blooms and produces successfully just in time to mold and rot on the thriving plant.  I'm talking dozens of them.  They grow in size along with everything else and then just as they start to turn red, they are consumed by the circumstances surrounding them.  Moisture.  Bugs.  A beautiful worthless bountiful harvest.  You wait and you watch.  What is going to happen?

And then finally there are the blueberries.  We planted five bushes around our patio watching them ever so slowly bloom and then berry and then finally begin to turn blue.  It took months.  We dreamed about all we would do with the berries.  We planned for a bumper crop smiling that we were outwitting the usual high grocery store cost.  And then one day recently, I looked out the school room window and saw a bird hop along the ground and pluck our beloved fruit right off the bush.  I ran outside hollering and noticed our precious plants were nearly bare.  The birds had found them and we were sustaining their life.  And yet a remnant remained.

 We are in a season of life where we are slowly realizing that God is in control.  It doesn't matter if it all makes sense or is pre-planned.  He can grow something beautiful from nothing in the heart of a person.  We watch and we wait trusting that something is going to happen and it has nothing to do with us.