The Commitment Garden

The garden analogy is probably nothing new to my readers. However, Saturday as I was weeding out in the 96 degree summer heat, several truths hit me again over the head.

Several years ago, our family spent a long Mother's Day Sunday preparing a garden bed around our patio. We worked and worked to get that bed ready, sprayed, dug, and laid down the landscape fabric - confident it would do its job and there would be no more weeding. The next year, though, the weeds were rampant, making for a lot more back-breaking pulling and chopping to assure our beautiful new bushes and flowers had a chance to take root and grow again.

Years later the bushes are big, the flowers showy and we regularly enjoy visits from skittery little butterflies and zooming hummmingbirds. Was it worth all the effort? Is it still worth the effort each year to prepare the bed, trim the bushes, lay new mulch, pull the errant weeds?

It seems to me that the gardens we plant and nurture are much like the relationships God brings into our lives. Developing a God-designed relationship is hard work and to do it right requires a lot of effort. As broken people, we all have shortcomings, fears, struggles--those weeds that want to choke out the beautiful, the mercy, the grace.

Last Spring I put a lot of effort into a small flower bed in front of the house. However, I neglected some key elements and when I returned from a short trip the weeds had overtaken it. Sadly, I watched in dismay as all that work was ruined. If I had been faithful and weeded the moment I returned, things might have been different. I gave up too soon - I lacked endurance, faithfulness and commitment to my dear friends.

Looking back on those two different plantings, what made the difference? Last year's planting succumbed to the overwhelming heat and dryness, but I can't blame it all on the summer sun. Unfortunately, it was my lack of devotion and care that also contributed to the sad outcome. Yes, it takes work to grow a garden . . . it takes patience, love, and devotion to grow a relationship.

And, what about those instances where the other person is stumbling, weeds are growing up in their life. What do I do then? Do I have the faith not to give up on them even when they've given up on themselves? It's all about commitment - indeed family and faith. Much like the fruits of the spirit - a garden of relationship thrives through the Spirit. The herb garden is thriving through the heat. Why? Love and commitment.

It's a lot to take in - this garden life. Am I up for the challenge? Are you? I'm determined this year will be different. My herb garden is now flourishing; pretty flowers dot the front landscape . . . and the waters of life will sustain them, along with a little help from me. They've got a good start, but it's up to me to maintain our relationship, nurture it - persevere. Love believes all things. (I Corinthians 13:7)

Lenten Experiment - Day 7 (Kansas High Winds)

I know some of you out there reading this post will relate to the fact that life is not without heartache and pain. God has not promised us an easy way. Whether it be chronic health issues, pain, broken relationships, financial struggles, workplace challenges, anger, most of us have experienced some type of struggle, pain, or trial. It is an inevitable part of the broken world we live in--part of the broken people we live among. Yes, even part of our own--my own--brokenness.

Ten years ago I moved from the bulging metropolis of Kansas City and set up camp out among the tallgrass prairies of Northeast Kansas. Wagons west! And what an adventure it has been. While our two older daughters were not thrilled with the move to small town America, I have found that living on the prairie has brought with it a reverence, an awe, a wonder of creation itself. I don't miss the over-indulgence that some cities bring. I don't miss the crime. I don't miss the traffic. And, as strange as this may sound, I don't miss the shopping malls!

Instead, I love the tallgrass prairie and the roar of the wind. I love the ethnically diverse landscape that comes with a university community. I love my church. I love the open spaces and the constellations that light up my outdoor ceiling.

Depite the surrounding beauty and joy, our journey as a family has been fraught with heartaches and challenges the last several years. Much like the strong high plains winds that move across this part of the world, challenges blow hard across our paths, straining to force us off course.

It all came to me tonight on my 30 minute drive home from work. The skies were still clear, but the wind was viscious along I-70. As I drove my 3/4 ton pick-up home, it became increasingly difficult to keep it lined up straight on the road. Even with 600 pounds of sandbags in the back it wasn't enough to totally tame that prairie wind. I kept both hands on the wheel and kept my focus straight ahead--down the interstate. I determined not to deviate from my course.

Now three hours later it is evident what all the wind was about--driving rain and a laser light show of lightning entertains us across the charcoal sky.

Much like the crazy prairie high winds, the challenges in my life strain and push to move me off course and away from my ultimate purpose. I'm learning that as long as I keep both hands on the wheel and my eyes straight ahead--aimed at the end goal--I'll make it home safely.

Lenten Experiment - Day 5

Between the Rains -

As I mentioned a couple of days ago, my latest foray into Bible study with Beth Moore and a group of precious ladies at my church has once again opened up my mind to what is actually going on in my life--not just what I think is going on.

Many times no matter how hard I try I simply can't figure out what God's trying to say for all the static I hear or the fog that clouds my vision.

So with all that said, I really need to share today about my life right here, right now because I'm "between the rains."

Lent itself is a condition of being "between the rains"--between the haphazard hullabaloo of Mardi Gras and the rejoicing of Resurrection Sunday. The sermon in church this morning, though, looked at Lent a different way as getting increasingly darker and darker until Good Friday when the whole world darkens upon Christ's death on the cross, then of course brightens full force on Easter morning when He rises from the dead.

I'm seeing it right now as a time of dryness within a large patch of parched ground. Deep down buried within the ground, my land is seeded and prepared for growth. Deep, rugged furrows of trials clawed their way across my land. The seeds are dormant, awaiting spring, awaiting the end of this season, waiting for the glory of a wondrous rain. Patiently waiting for water.

Now--I know it's my responsibility to look for the rain, to wait expecting a refreshing rain. The rainy season is coming. I just know it!

Are you ready for the rain?

"So let us know, let us press on to know the Lord. His going forth is as certain as the dawn; and He will come to us like the rain, like the spring rain watering the earth." (Hosea 6:3 NASB)

Lenten Experiment - Day 1 (Ash Wednesday)

Day 1 of Lent – Ash Wednesday

As I reflect upon the first day of the new beginning of Lent, I am reminded that for many people Lent is simply a time “to give up something.” It is superficial, at best, just a way to go with the crowd, to follow a time-honored tradition, to exhibit a holiness that may or may not be living down in the deepest wellspring of our heart.

My intention is not to be critical--it is simply an observation and I am just as guilty of a hypocritical nature that is not very attractive.

While to deny the selfishness that enchains all of our hearts is a noble task, what does it truly accomplish in the space of a mere 40 days? For many, it does not become a habit—we simply look forward to Easter morning when we can be released from the burden of the denial and return to our selfish ways. I’m told that it takes 30 days to establish a habit. But does it really?

So what are you giving up this Lenten season? Social media? Chocolate? Fast food? Cussing? Drinking?

Or, will you--like me--think “outside of the box” and step out of your comfort zone and do something out of the ordinary? Serve someone each day, love in extraordinary ways or begin the journey of healing for your own heart? Maybe take a risk like none other. Our life on this earth is so very, very short--don't waste it.

My challenge to myself this Lent is to write a reflection each day focused on these thoughts and many more than consume my brain cells – all in hopes that I am well prepared to meet my Savior this Easter—face-to-face; mind-to-mind; heart-to-heart. Honestly, I’m not sure I’m up for the challenge. I need help each and every day, minute-by-ugly minute to process through the inadequacies of this life.

This is my Lenten Experiment.

I hope you will join me from time to time whether it be for a short read, encouragement, or to help me maneuver through the richness of the Scriptures and the vastness that is our Lord.

Wanderlust

"Itchy feet" describes my 10-pound long-haired, black and tan dachshund like no other phrase. Some of my friends may remember when the little one had a close encounter with a coyote in the woods near our house in January. She had bite wounds around her shoulders, on her head and it punctured her trachea.

Of my three dachshunds, she's been blessed or maybe "cursed" is a better word with the old country hunting gene. Chasing rabbits, digging into burrows, sniffing out her prey with tenacity and fervor. Unfortunately she met her match in a frosty winter bog behind our pond. After nearly a week in I.C.U., and several weeks of recovery at home, we thought she was on the mend. Then one morning she got up and could barely walk from back pain. More restrictions in the baby play pen for another eight weeks though set her right.

It's now six months from her accident and about two months since her back problems so we all thought we could breathe a sign of relief. Unfortunately, the little bugger now has a new disease—wanderlust.

Here is little D.K. sitting at the back door aching for the woods. And, it's really hard for me to say "no" to her. I mean after all, she is a dog and I've gotta let her "be a dog." Right? I let her out and watch her scurry across the sidewalk, bound for adventures in the deep grasses. And, she never comes back of her own accord – it requires work from me. Yes, you guessed it. I'm out calling and hunting and pleading with her to come inside. Once back in the house, she laps up a bowl of water and then collapses until another bout of wanderlust strikes her. She's up to about three adventures every day. I'm not sure if I can keep up.

D.K.'s forays into the forest remind me of how I sometimes get distracted with "itchy feet" and fail to find God's best path for me. It might be rest I need or a new attitude, but instead I'm off exploring or wasting time. As I wander farther and farther into the brush it gets harder and harder to hear His voice. He calls and calls, but only after His persistence do I finally hear His cries and strike out for the safety of home—His arms.