Secrets from Gardening (+ How They Change Your Life)

Once upon a time, you came into the world.

And a seed was born. It was like this big, empty plot of ground was assigned with your name, and the seed of you was dropped into it.

Ground can turn into lots of things. Trees grow up, towering like sentinels in a fortress. Melons and potatoes and pumpkins and squash spread in vining, curling tendrils. Corn pierces the sky with shining tassels beside the sunflowers who smile for a day and then gently bend in pouring wind.

There’s more. Vineyards of grapes and berries. Orchards with trees organized in rows. Grassy meadows where cows graze or hay is raked.

But, in the beginning, you were one seed. You grew, got your second leaves, and then your third.

The field was still empty. Way back then, you had decisions to make. Today, the same decisions are there, but maybe a little harder.

What’s in your field?

Today I read in Proverbs,

Prepare your outside work,

Make it fit for yourself in the field;

And afterward build your house.

- Proverbs 24:27

A lot of times we do it backwards. We do step #2 before step #1. Maybe we’re planning sweet corn, but we forgot to mark out where the popcorn was, and everything’s messed up, and our garden is going to be ruined, and we think there's no hope for us.

We can’t build our house or plant our seeds unless our fields are ready. I’ve tried. Gardening the wrong way isn’t fun.

The Bible gives instructions - first we prepare the outside work.

I went by the field of the lazy man,

And by the vineyard of the man devoid of understanding;

And there it was, all overgrown with thorns;

Its surface was covered with nettles;

Its stone wall was broken down.

- Proverbs 24:30-31

We’ve had gardens like that—overgrown with thorns, covered with weeds, boundaries broken down letting in the stray animals.

But once upon a time, I was given the garden of my life. And now, decades later, I see how it’s changed.

I have a lot of plots. Instead of Brussel sprouts, I have my writing. Where sugar snap peas might be, I have my job. There’re others too—my family, my hobbies, my talents, my chores, my friends, and everything else that consists of my life. Each one is like a plot in the garden of my life.

I like to think they’re organized plots. One here, another there, clearly defined and growing well. But a lot of times they’re not. Weeds grow, thorny. Walls collapse. I don’t have time for every plot, so I abandon some or focus too much on others. The plants twine into the plot beside them. Vines mix with bushes.

And I’m left wondering how on earth we can live fruitful lives when there’s so much chaos and weeds and distractions.

The answer: prepare your outside work

It’s not about the garden or the plans or the work I put into it. Without one thing, all else will be lost.

Weeds will come, rocks will cut, soil will dry and crack—unless I have my foundation. Unless I pile up mulch, scatter those woodchips across the ground, and let it do the work for me. It keeps the moisture in. It kills the weeds. It hides the rocks. The preparation is everything.

It’s Jesus.

Because I can do everything in the world and still be empty-handed unless He is the purpose. I can try to cultivate my writing, love my siblings, practice my music, learn a new language, but, without Jesus, it’s like watering a desert with a spoon and pail.

Once upon a time, you were born and given a plot. Since then, you’ve grown plants and done a lot of work.

Maybe there were mistakes like I had. Maybe you accidentally grew thistles instead of wheat. Or maybe you thought your gem corn was so beautiful that you completely forgot about picking tomatoes.

It’s not about what we do. Our life could be a picturesque field of trees or grass or vegetables or anything else. That’s not the point at all.

Jesus needs to be there. The foundation, the substance that supports our plot of ground. He needs to be the reason we sing, the reason we work, the reason we take every breath.

It’s surrendering to Him. There’ll still be some weeds, some care, some work. But there’ll also be so much more meaning, fruit, rest.

At my house, we have a garden that’s half mulched and half plain dirt. Every day I go out there and weed it. Half of the plants are surrounded by hard, weedy earth that I must keep clearing again and again. But the other half, the garden surrounded by mulch, flourishes with vegetables and moist earth even in the driest seasons.

So today I’m stopping the weed picking in my life. And instead, I’m laying woodchips down.

Go grow a garden. Start it with Jesus.

Surrender.

Practically? It's asking Him what I should be doing. It's taking time to listen. It's stopping my schedule and following His. It's doing more than a little "Bible time" and letting Him have the entirety of my life.

That's what abiding is, and that's the only way we grow fruit.

You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit, and that your fruit should remain, that whatever you ask the Father in My name He may give you.

- John 15:16

(ps) Photos credit to my gardener + photographer brother.  =)

~♥~