Sunday Thoughts

I think about Palm Sunday, and the palms laid before Jesus as the king the Jews were hoping for. I also think about my palms being open to Him. The Jewish people wanted an earthly King, they wanted someone to come and fix their problems on earth right now. Their circumstances found them under the rule of the Romans when Jesus walked this earth. And they were looking for a messiah of political and military proportions. They were looking and they missed Him because they couldn't see that He came to bring a whole new Kingdom about, one that our earthly minds can't begin to understand. I think about my garden and all the parables Jesus told about planting sowing reaping and the condition of the soil to accept the seeds planted. This has been the season of preparing the soil for me and my little patch of dirt. It's not a big garden, but enough for me to feel like I've planted something and can watch it grow and see the beauty of creation and hope for at least one homegrown ripe tomato sandwich from my garden this year. I'm no farmer, certainly a kind of new gardner. I've been playing around with patches of dirt since I went home from college the first time, and even more the time I was home with a new baby during the day and working at night. My mom just has a natural green thumb, and as I watched her I saw something besides all the hard work, and I wanted it. I hoped one day to have my own patch of dirt. My own family, my own home, my own husband, my very own. I was blessed to have their support while my oldest was a baby and until he was about four years old. But even during that time of great blessings I wanted more... I envied any woman I saw with a wedding ring on. I thought to myself "how did she land a man, and I can't" when truthfully I had landed a few men by that time in my life, only I'd gone about it all my way and ended up in all the messes you can make going your own way. I found one after another that couldn't hold a candle to a love that I held as perfect. And truthfully that love was more flawed than I can even begin to describe. But as one of my favorite authors Glennon has said, I was young and I forgive myself. I know God has long since forgiven me, it's just the me, I have to keep forgiving. But the condition of the soil parable is ringing in my mind as I was hand hoeing up the dirt in my little garden. Not even a very big spot, mind you, as a lot of my garden is covered in cilantro and mint that I don't want to stop growing, so my patch for planting new things is really small. But I live in GA, and on the NW corner of the ATL area and the dirt is orange, and filled with clay. So this soil isn't rocky but it might as well be. It has plenty of rocks and tons of clay and very little good black dirt as I call it. But it was time to break it up as Easter rapidly approaches late this year in comparison to the last few, I wanted to plant at least by then. Hoeing dirt is hard work, especially by hand. And maybe because I'm reading through the scriptures or maybe we'd talked about it at church recently or maybe just The Holy Spirit whispering while I hoe, see this dirt, do you think if it could feel that it would like what you are doing? And the earth felt like a heart, and I saw hardened hearts getting hand hoed by God, and his love. I love that dirt, I want it to grow the plants I have for it. The weeds can stay in the entire rest of the yard, but that patch, I have plans for it. I have saved seeds from last season, and I think about them as I sweat and get that dirt to yeild to the work of my hands. And I think to myself, Lord thank you for working on my own hardened heart, thank you for the pain, for the heartache, for the suffering, for the distance in friendships and in my marriage, for not being able to trust anyone it YOU. I can hear YOU whispering I only have plans for you my child that are good. There are beautifully flowers to grow and fruit and vegetables to sprout from that dirt, but my dear child your dirt has to be ready, and I'm sorry but this won't feel good for a while. This won't feel like love maybe for a minute. I raise the hoe over my head and come down hard on that patch breaking of the clods of clay. I hear you Lord I whisper. I trust you. No it doesn't feel good to have a softened ready pliable and ready to grow heart, but I trust you. I trust you to plant just the right flowers and just the right fruits and vegetables, so that when others see me they'll see that something that I saw all those years ago watching my mother plant her own garden. I wonder if she knows what I know? I think perhaps she does and maybe every gardner with imperfect soil knows that the hoeing up  and preparing of the soil for the seeds is just as important as following the directions when placing those seeds in the ground.  April 14,2019 ojm Published Sunday June 16 2019