Flower Pots

     Flowers are not the only things that grow in my garden. Gardening nourishes my soul. As always, God’s spirit teaches in the little things I encounter as I work in my garden. I never know exactly what lesson He has in store as I grub around in my little patch. Of this I am sure, He works on me while I work on my, His really, plants. Each year, I don my worn shorts, roll up my sleeves, and He gets to work.

     I first turn to preparing my pots; which languished all winter long beside my house out of sight and out of mind. Previous years plants slowly disintegrate under the weight of winter rain and snow.

Dead roots shrivel and harden into clumps. I take each pot in turn and work the soil, turning it and breaking up the clods. One year I failed to fully and deeply turn the soil in one pot. All summer the flowers in that pot struggled. Not only did they have to deal with the harsh Lubbock sun, they also had to work around those hard spots. Consequently, they never flourished. Oh they grew and produced blossoms, but they never did erupt in the effuse riot of color I expected. Their roots were inhibited. Now, I take my time when preparing, or tilling, the soil. I reach deep, exploring for any hardness. Once I find a hard spot, I work it into softness, breaking up the clods, crushing the shriveled roots, and extracting any stones I might find. I take my time doing this, sitting with my legs sprawled out around the pot as I slowly turn it this way or that, plunging my arms in as I grope for any offending mass. It is worth the time and effort.

     Properly prepared pots provide a welcome environment for flowers. They send out roots and new growth quickly. Soon blooms festoon my yard. The pots themselves are worn and drab; however, I do not care. I’m looking for the colorful blossoms. I do not keep the pots around as a collection of statuary. I keep them for the service they provide. They hold what I truly desire, great and abundant beauty.

     My heart is similar. When I harbor hard spots, clumps as it were, God’s Spirit finds it difficult to produce fruit…or blossoms. Jesus talked about this at various times; most notably in His parable about the differing soils. Unlike soil, various urges animate my heart and all too often it clings to those things which create or increase hardness. Bitterness, envy, fear, and lust are just a few of those things which make the soil of my heart coarse, resistant to change. Of all the things that inhibit God’s work in this perhaps fear is the most powerful.

     I fear change. I like sameness in my life. I enjoy the comfort of stability. Constancy was one of the reasons I stayed in the army for so long. Once you understand the rules and roles life in the army is fairly simple. Oh, you change jobs every year or so and move to new assignments every two or three years, but overall life remains remarkably steady. I knew where I stood. The rigid rank structure simplified relationships. The legal requirements of orders provided a certain simplicity. All of these things made life easy. God calls us to a different sort of existence.

     He wants to break up all those hard spots, those places which harbor ill-will toward others, and let in new growth. He calls me to not fear those who are different, to love them, to provide room for them, and to go the extra mile for them. Sadly, I often resist His efforts. I’m used to those hard spots and do not want to risk breaking them up. I find it easier to limp along; comfortable in my complacency. His way involves great risk. He wants to turn over the soil of my heart, working out all the hard spots, until His desired plantings can take root and bloom. I am instant when working in my garden. I do not quit until I’ve worked through all the soil in a pot. God allows me choice. He will let me cling to the flinty parts despite the deleterious effects. But, if I let Him have His way, let Him work His will, the results are quite beautiful and the harvest bountiful.