A pastoral friend of mine moved from the Island back in the winter, and left me a rich resource: his garden. That included the greenhouse he built, his raised flower beds, his compost bin, and even his dirt. A bunch of us moved the greenhouse from Clam Point to Centreville back in January, but I decided to wait until the ground thawed before I picked up the rest of his gift.
Trip after trip, I loaded crates with strawberry plants, raspberry bushes, and rhubarb sprouts. Time after time, I filled those same crates with dirt and compost, and slowly began to fill the greenhouse and raised beds, now in the southern exposure of my yard, with life and the potential of it.
I had started seedlings inside: cucumbers, lettuce, pumpkins, peas, beans, green peppers, herbs, and tomatoes. So, towards the end of May, those seedlings found homes outside, and I watched life grow. I know that gardening – indeed, much of life itself – can be explained scientifically and rationally, but I still see the miraculous and the spiritual in watching things grow.
As my garden took shape, I saw the unexpected. I saw onions sprouting in the strawberries. I saw squash sprouting in the peas. And I saw tomatoes sprouting, well, everywhere: in the gourds, in the raspberries, in the beans. These I didn’t plant where they sprouted, but they did just fine without me. They grew from seeds left over from my friend’s dirt and compost. I didn’t plant them, but they have grown quite nicely without my help. Though I enjoy gardening, I wouldn’t say I have a green thumb, so I appreciate all the help I can get.
There’s a biblical principle that says, “A man reaps what he sows.” (Galatians 6:7) Generally that’s true. I sowed carrots, and I am reaping carrots. But there is also another biblical principle involved here, and it’s called grace. Grace is less about getting what you earn, and more about getting what you don’t earn. I didn’t plant squash, but I am getting squash.
Grace is easy to receive but hard to fathom. Why would God forgive me, just because I asked for it? I don’t know, but he does – that’s grace. When I try to earn it, and work for it, in hopes of deserving it, then it’s a wage; it’s no longer grace, and God doesn’t give forgiveness that way.
Is it possible that connecting with God has little to do with how good I can be, and has more to do with how good God is? Could my faith be more about trusting in what Jesus did perfectly on the cross, and less about trusting in my own flawed, faulty, imperfect deeds? How would I live my life if it were really about Jesus, and not about me?
My grace garden shows me that I am benefitting from something that someone else did. My faith reflects the same truth. I am thankful for the grace that still amazes.
Trip after trip, I loaded crates with strawberry plants, raspberry bushes, and rhubarb sprouts. Time after time, I filled those same crates with dirt and compost, and slowly began to fill the greenhouse and raised beds, now in the southern exposure of my yard, with life and the potential of it.
I had started seedlings inside: cucumbers, lettuce, pumpkins, peas, beans, green peppers, herbs, and tomatoes. So, towards the end of May, those seedlings found homes outside, and I watched life grow. I know that gardening – indeed, much of life itself – can be explained scientifically and rationally, but I still see the miraculous and the spiritual in watching things grow.
As my garden took shape, I saw the unexpected. I saw onions sprouting in the strawberries. I saw squash sprouting in the peas. And I saw tomatoes sprouting, well, everywhere: in the gourds, in the raspberries, in the beans. These I didn’t plant where they sprouted, but they did just fine without me. They grew from seeds left over from my friend’s dirt and compost. I didn’t plant them, but they have grown quite nicely without my help. Though I enjoy gardening, I wouldn’t say I have a green thumb, so I appreciate all the help I can get.
There’s a biblical principle that says, “A man reaps what he sows.” (Galatians 6:7) Generally that’s true. I sowed carrots, and I am reaping carrots. But there is also another biblical principle involved here, and it’s called grace. Grace is less about getting what you earn, and more about getting what you don’t earn. I didn’t plant squash, but I am getting squash.
Grace is easy to receive but hard to fathom. Why would God forgive me, just because I asked for it? I don’t know, but he does – that’s grace. When I try to earn it, and work for it, in hopes of deserving it, then it’s a wage; it’s no longer grace, and God doesn’t give forgiveness that way.
Is it possible that connecting with God has little to do with how good I can be, and has more to do with how good God is? Could my faith be more about trusting in what Jesus did perfectly on the cross, and less about trusting in my own flawed, faulty, imperfect deeds? How would I live my life if it were really about Jesus, and not about me?
My grace garden shows me that I am benefitting from something that someone else did. My faith reflects the same truth. I am thankful for the grace that still amazes.