Abundance

 I never shared the pictures of my late garden, taken at the end of September.  Here are the collards, carrots, beets and nasturtiums.  The cabbages were already gone.  The trellis in back was covered with cucumbers and winter squash earlier in the season.

Here are some of the red peppers ripening.  I've got to say, I don't think I've ever tasted a pepper before.  Fresh from the garden, these were as juicy and as sweet as apples.

This is one of the thousands of morning glory blooms that sprang from one seed, planted on the edge of the tomatoes.  I figured the morning glory would climb the tomato vines and they did!  It took until late fall for them to begin to bloom, and then they were amazingly vigorous. 

This picture does not do justice to the amount of amazing tomatoes we got - both round and plum.  The green ones I picked at the end of the season are still ripening into juicy, delicious fruit on the kitchen windowsill today.

Here are just a couple of the Asian yard long beans.  They really were a yard long, and they had a firm texture and a nutty taste.  Only two or three beans were enough for a meal!  In the background is the already cleared bed that held 48 corn plants that actually yielded great silver queen corn, but we had to fight the worms for it.

The garden was more abundant than I had dreamed it would be, but not in the ways I'd imagined.  I had more cucumbers than I knew what to do with from only two plants until they mysteriously all turned soft and yellow and died.  But they were great while they lasted.  My winter squash vines took off like a shot and grew hundreds of blossoms.  In the end only two of the blossoms developed into a squash - the rest just fell off.  I had more tomatoes than I expected and frankly, I didn't expect any corn at all - but I actually had some!  It felt like a real accomplishment.  The carrots were thick and straight and beautiful, and the beets were big and round, but the cilantro died and the melon never sprouted.  I didn't get the greens I'd hoped for.  The collards, grown from young plants produced well all summer, but the kale, spinach, chard and lettuce I planted from seed really didn't grow much at all.  That was disappointing, since my main reason for wanting a garden was for greens.  But the peppers and the fresh parsely and basil made up for it.  They were much better than I could ever have imagined.

Sometimes you can fall into thinking that abundance means having it all.  But my garden this year reminded me that true abundance - the God give kind - is not the same as getting everything you want.  True abundance is in the awareness that you've been given a blessing, and it often comes in unexpected ways, and what you don't get only makes you love what you do get all the more.  



Promises

Just a few days, really, after planting seeds, little sprouts began to come up in my garden. Here are the beans










Here are some radishes














Here are the squash, melons and cucumbers










Here is the corn














Here is the tomato and pepper bed, all planted with young plants that are already looking pretty vibrant and happy in their new digs












I find myself going out to the garden several times a day to just stare at it. It seems that everyday something new begins to sprout up. It's amazing to me that all I did was to put together some good dirt, add water and seeds and voila - vegetables! I don't know why I shake my head in wonder and almost disbelief. It has happened just as nature and all the gardening books have always promised. All I had to do was follow the steps of putting together a garden. It was a lot of work, I will admit, and maybe that's why although I've always wanted a garden like this, I never quite got around to it before. But because this year I took the steps I needed to take to get the garden established, the impossible dream of growing fresh, organic vegetables is becoming a promise fulfilled right in my own front yard. Granted, there's still a lot of growth yet to go, but each day, I see more progress.

Last Tuesday night at the big book study meeting at our church that I attend each week, we got to the paragraph that states the step 9 promises of AA (step 9 is when you make face to face appointments with people you have harmed or resented in your life and make earnest amends for your past behaviors toward them.) The paragraph says:

"If we are painstaking about this phase of our development, we will be amazed before we are half way through. We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness. We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace. No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others. That feeling of uselessness and self pity will disappear. We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows. Self-seeking will slip away. Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change. Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us. We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us. We will sudenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves."

What amazing promises! They must seem like an impossible dream to someone in the throes of addiction. I know that about 20 years ago, when I was at my lowest point in life, living a life sorely affected by an alcoholic, I would have read such promises and shaken my head in disbelief. Freedom? Happiness? Having no regrets? Finding serenity and peace? having no more feelings of uselessness and self pity? The fear of economic insecurity will leave me? How could any of that ever, possibly come true for me?

But as amazing as such things would have seemed before I started my healing journey, I have since learned that by no means are these extravagant promises. I've learned that when I accept and acknowledge that my life has become unmanageable and take the first small step toward recovery, then the next and the next, always seeking progress rather than perfection, things do change. What is most important is to admit that "God is God, and I am not God." When I began to move forward in that kind of humility, I found that at some point when I paused and looked back, I saw very clearly that my life was no longer the same sad life I was once living. And I realized that the promises had actually begun to come true.

Go to the lumber store and get boards to build some boxes. Get some good compost. Mix it with peat moss and vermiculite so it will soak up lots of water. Put it in your boxes and separate it into sections. Keep it moist. Add seeds. Build trellises for the climbing plants. Protect the beds from animals. And you will get vegetables.

Turn your life over to God, trust God will take you better places than you can take yourself, allow God to remove those bad habits or reactions or life strategies that are not working, and trust God has better ways for you to be. Make intentional amends for your past errors and live a new way, and you will find a freedom that you never thought would ever be possible.

Again from the Big Book: "Are these extravagant promises? We think not. They are being fulfilled among us - sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. They will always materialize if we work for them."

God certainly promises us wonderful things. And wonderful promises like these are certainly worth working for.

Potential

Here they are, in all their glory - my square foot gardening beds. I've been dreaming of making gardens this way for a long time, and I'm very excited that after a lot of heavy prep work, they've actually materialized on my lawn and are all ready to plant. The only thing left to do, besides planting the seeds and seedlings themselves, is to make some wire cages to protect the seeds and seedlings from squirrels, birds and deer.

Look at them - all neat and orderly and ready for duty. There is a lot of potential in this small space. Using this intensive system, I could get lots and lots of fresh vegetables out of these gardens - potentially all our vegetables for the summer. But I am also well aware of what could go wrong. In fact, my sermon on Sunday included a lot about this garden and what it means to have hope. (that sermon is here.)

So I'm not putting my hopes just in the potential of this garden. My hopes are already soaring in joy just in just having these empty beds in my yard. I think there is the potential for much more than vegetables for me in tending this garden, and I am really looking forward to the whole process as it unfolds.