The Crummy Soil and the Traveling Plants

I should've learned from past experience, but I didn't. The Hired Hand tried to tell me it was a bad idea. Repeatedly. But I didn't listen. I was determined to have a garden. A big garden. So, we forged ahead.

We plowed and harrowed and tilled until I was sick of preparations. The Hired Hand told me the ground wasn't right. We needed soil testing and to add whatever it is this ground needs. Yes, the soil in the photo is the very pitiful soil in my garden. 

"It isn't ready." He said it until I couldn't stand to hear it any more.

I planted anyway. I'd grown a garden in that crummy soil before, and I was determined to do it again.

In retrospect, my garden had always struggled in that location, but I had planted so many seeds that I managed to get as much produce as I could use. 

Yesterday, I took a serious look at the plants in my garden and made a decision. The Hired Hand is right. The soil isn't ready for a garden. I looked at my raised beds, filled mostly with "barnyard fertilizer" and realized they aren't quite ready, either. They do have nutrients in the soil that make plants grow, and they are definitely the better choice for my struggling plants.

It wasn't what I wanted to do on a Saturday, but I spent a good portion of yesterday making a swap. I carefully dug up all the Brussels sprouts and planted them in one of my raised beds. Next, I dug up all the cabbage, then the red cabbage, then the onions. They all have a new home in a raised bed with much better soil. 

Before I'm done, all the plants will have a new home. They'll make it or they won't, but, in their new home, they will definitely have a better chance to thrive.

All this has, of course, brought the parable of the sower to mind. You probably remember that story. The sower scattered seed along the roadside. Some of it fell beside the road and the birds ate it. Other seeds fell on rocky soil, others among the thorns. None of those seeds survived. 

It was only the seeds that fell on good, fertile soil that grew a crop. 

Jesus said our hearts are just like the soil. Some are so enmeshed in the world that we hear the truth of Jesus, but can't understand it. Others make a start but don't follow through. Our hearts aren't prepared to persevere enough to learn the ways of God. Some of us allow the worries of this world to choke out the truth we know.

There are only a few, Jesus said, who hear the truth of Jesus, understand it, and apply it in their lives. It is those people whose lives bear fruit in ways we cannot even imagine. They bring forth thirty, sixty, even one hundred fold what was planted in them. 

When I look at the soil in my garden, I know it needs some serious work. When I look at the soil in my heart, I can see it needs some work, too. 

What about you? 

Today, let's take a look at our own hearts. Do we have hearts of fertile soil for God's truth or not? 

If not, are we willing to allow God the freedom to change the "soil" of our hearts? 

Will we allow Him to test us and modify us so that we can begin to be the fruitful disciples He intended?

"And the one on whom seed was sown on the good soil, this is the man who hears the word and understands it; who indeed bears fruit and brings forth, some a hundredfold, some sixty, and some thirty." Matthew 13:23 nasb
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In case you missed it, here's the link to yesterday's post: Touching the House of God (http://leannahollis.blogspot.com/2016/05/touching-house-of-god.html)

For those doing the Hosea study, the Chapter Four lesson is now live and here's the link: Chapter Four 
(http://lessonsindiscipleship.blogspot.com/2016/05/hosea-chapter-four.html)

In case you're interested, here are links to two other sower blog posts: The Roadside Seed and The Special Seed

#gardening #goodsoil #disciple 

The Ripe Tomato

My friend Debbie Hayden saw a great raised bed on Pinterest, and talked her husband Durick into building it for her. Little did she know, but I had been pondering raised beds and an easier way to garden. For two decades, I had huge gardens, spending innumerable hours canning and processing the vegetables I grew. The last few years, however, I've skipped the vegetable garden because of the work involved. I missed having my own vegetables, though. I didn't have time for lots of hoeing and tilling, but something easier might work, and I pondered it so long that I finally realized I was "too late" to plant a garden. 

I was too late, that is, until Debbie and Durick made their raised bed. When Debbie posted pictures on Facebook, I began to think I might have a garden after all. When she posted pictures of the seedlings growing, I was sold on the project. 

The old white farm truck was loaded down with concrete blocks and garden soil that early Saturday morning. Bill the Magnificent took one look at the load and said, "What in the world are you up to now?" Before long, he could see for himself. The raised bed was a reality. I planted my seeds and an heirloom tomato plant and started watering and watching. In no time at all, I had seedlings of my own. 

In Blue Springs, gardeners plant with the idea of having a ripe tomato by July 4th. Of course that date came and went with the only ripe tomatoes coming from someone else's garden. This week, however, there's been just enough from the garden: one squash a day, plenty of herbs, and lovely cut flowers, but no tomatoes. Yesterday, one of the tomatoes was finally red. After one more day to ripen on the vine, it was part of supper tonight. Yum! Home grown tomatoes!  It turns out that I wasn't too late after all!

You may not do this, but I have so much going on that the most pressing things get done first, leaving some of the less pressing but most desired things undone. That ripe tomato reminded me that second chances are worth seizing. 

Are you putting off something you'd really like to do (or really should do) because of more pressing matters? Why not take advantage of a second chance and get it done. After all, there's truth in the old adage, "Better late than never".  My ripe tomato is proof of that! 

(PS - I know that's a picture of squash, but I'd already eaten the tomato!)

Life on the Farm: the Greenhouse Compound

After a tortured few months of greenhouse construction, my nephew helped me finish the parts that were too high for me, and I happily moved into my greenhouse. I had visions of filling it with marvelous plants, sprouting all kinda of seeds on shelves, and hanging plants with luxuriant vines dangling. It was going to be a mini-jungle!  I started moving plants inside. 

Unfortunately, I forgot about Mississippi summers. Late one Friday afternoon, I moved a big container garden filled with spinach and Romaine lettuce into the greenhouse, along with quite a few other plant-filled pots. By Saturday afternoon, the greens were ready for life support. Moving them back outside and seriously dousing them with water managed to resuscitate them, so I hauled all the others back outside, as well. 

Not to be deterred, I started filling old pots with seedlings, sets, and cuttings and lining them up along the outside of the greenhouse.  The lawn chairs from the barn came next, and Maggie found a new favorite spot. Bill the Magnificent built a fence around my space to keep the cows and horses out, built a gate, and moved the compost tumbler (now so jam-packed that it barely turns). Before I knew it, the Greenhouse Compound was a reality!

After two decades of growing almost all my food, I had taken a break from vegetable gardening for several years. This was going to be my comeback year, but the thought of tilling, hoeing, and weeding was enough to send me to the produce stand instead. The idea of a raised bed garden was appealing, and I had prayed about it quite a bit, but nothing seemed right. 

Finally, my friend Debbie Hayden posted pictures on Facebook of her raised bed, along with photos of the process of preparation. It was exactly what I had wanted, and looked like an answered prayer.  On Saturday, I headed to the feed store (where farmers get everything) for the concrete blocks. In just a few hours, my raised bed was done. The next day, I stopped by a "box store" for garden soil, found that it was on sale, and headed home with all I needed. Before I knew it, the bed was full of soil, plants were in, and seeds were planted. 

The wonderful thing about the raised bed is the limitation of the block walls. The tendency to extravagant planting and excessive rows is completely squelched by those marvelous concrete blocks. Someone saw my raised bed after it was finished and commented, "That's a mighty small garden.  You gonna do some more of those?"  I had wondered that myself, but as soon as the question was asked, I realized that this little garden is enough. 

I may not be able to raise enough to eat all winter, but the idea is to provide my daily bread (well, really my daily vegetables), not take the place of the grocery store altogether. This year, I want to grow enough, without waste. This goal is born out of a revelation that my tendency toward extravagance, even in good things like vegetable gardens, leads to waste of the time and resources God has entrusted to me. This little raised garden is a step in a different direction, and I'm very excited about it. 

So far, I've had just enough lettuce, just enough spinach, just enough kale. Before long, as God continues to answer my prayers for daily bread (ahem, daily vegetables), I should have just enough squash, zucchini, tomatoes, and watermelon. Yum yum! I can't wait! 

More pictures to follow as the garden grows.