I am no farmer. Neither am I a farmer’s wife. But, alas, the LOVE of planting a garden resides in my farm-reared husband, surfacing every spring and resulting in a little plot of green behind a chicken wire fence.
The closest I come to a gardener is claiming a grandmother who routinely could boast of a tidy, productive, small garden behind her house in town. I loved the taste of fresh peas and the tang of rhubarb, fresh, or cooked into a delectable sauce with strawberries.
But I claim no green thumbs. Both of mine are notoriously brown.
We can more or less handle eating up the harvest of sweet corn cob-by-golden-cob since Jerry and the kids love it. But the beans! Some dry on the vine if the boys forget to turn on the sprinkler when it hasn’t rained. Birds or bugs invade the uncovered garden vegetation. At times we can’t pick them fast enough. And where, oh where, is Julianna when it’s time to freeze the excess?!
Recently a good sale at Woolworth’s convinced me to acquire peppers, potatoes, and tomatoes. Almost on the heels of this purchase we were given more produce. Not wanting them rotting in the fridge, creativity had to kick in. Something had to be done, or we’d be feeding our compost pile.
God purposed that we USE and EAT what He has grown and given!
It takes harvesters…helpers…tools…time…starting early…working late…inconvenienced schedules…long hours…great, sometimes wearying effort…
What am I doing with the harvest of lives God has brought to fruition?
The garden within my view is not the only garden–the field is the world!
Whether it’s corn or green beans, it’s what we have. Whether it’s someone we “connect” with or someone hard to work with, the greater love is shown to those who may be “the least of these” (Matthew 25:40). And in God’s sight, all are important.
When I glance at my growing garden, or my abundance of refrigerated vegetables, I plead, “Lord, help me be a better steward.”