Tuesday, May 1, 2007

Dearest God,

I love working in the soil. It has been three years since I last put in a vegetable garden. A small patch at the back of my property, I had to edge, dig, pull weeds, loosen the soil and rake before I could plant my tomatoes and peppers, ingredients for my fabulous salsa. It's taken me a few days an hour or two at a time.

After I planted my vegetables, I stood back and watered them. I thought of how my spiritual life is like this planting process. I have places in my life where I have hard places that need loosening. I have weeds, life's irritations that need plucking. I need at times to know my limitations, the edges, the boundaries. I have to have the soil of my soul raked of unwanted debris. Sometimes I have to dig deep to find you hidden away, like a treasure waiting to be found. I need watering, that living water stuff Jesus talked about. Working in the soil keeps me keen on working on my soul.

Watching my vegetable plants grow is great fun. But sometimes I fail to water them, compromising them to wilt and die. And weeds, they keep coming just like my life's irritations. I really didn't have time to put in my garden but it has a dual purpose. Provide the basic ingredients of my canned salsa and keep me thinking about my spiritual life. Will my plants produce fruit? Will my soul produce fruit? It's the same question.

I'm beginning to see some of the fruits of my labor at church. A long time in the waiting, I am seeing spiritual growth with a determination toward ministry. People coming to life, living their passion, seeking greater interest in what you have to offer. I envisioned this a long time ago; now the vision has become a reality.

Waiting, praying, hoping, believing is part of the spiritual growth process. Trusting you to be the key agent in this transformation is foundational to everything. Leaning on you to grow my vegetables, I lean on you for growth in myself, in your church where I serve alongside my parishners.

The weeks ahead will show my faithfulness in the garden. Will I care for my plants while leaning on God to produce fruit? Will I allow my own soul to undergo this transformative process, finally giving evidence of my own work? We'll see.

Grow me,
dear God.
Take all the stuff
that makes me
and grow me.
May my vegetables
teach me more
about trust in you.
May I learn more deeply
the truth about trust.
May we partner together
in this growing adventure.
Take my hand,
or rather I'll take yours.
I'll see where
I wind up,
praising you.

Love always, Andrea