Seeds

In case you don't know, I love a spot of gardening. Well planting actually.  No heavy digging or creating water features, just poddling about with seeds, plugs and plants. Thanks to the fabulous Virginian spring weather - sun, heat and recent rains - my lettuce, herbs and sweet pea have taken off. Filling big pots will peppary rocket (that's arugula to my American friends!); tumbling lemon thyme over a weather cracked strawberry jug and tangling, spindly sweet pea arms around wrought iron trellis, is no problem to these tiny seeds. How do they do it?!

Some of their seeds are so small it's a labour of love to sow them in a row - a scatter-gun approach would be much easier on the old back. Sweet pea seeds are bigger - pea sized funnily enough - and easier to strategically sow, but even then you still need to re-locate the wee mites so they've a fighting chance of finding something you'd like them to cling on to. Bulbs, on the other hand, are definitely easier to plant - you just have to put them in at the right depth - but once they've displayed their wares you have to be patient as their stems and leaves die down returning nutrients to the bulb for next year's glory.

There's something captivating about watching a seed or a bulb bring forth a plant with fruit or veg or flowers. All the potential for growth resides in these little pods just waiting for just the right conditions and time. Brilliant.

I've been thinking about how there are seeds of dreams, desires and talent in us. We've dreams that imperceptible - we don't even know they're there yet, and these can spring up where we least expect them. You just have to watch that they're flowers and not weeds! Other desires are bigger, we probably can't remember a time when they weren't part of us and some of these have already brought forth beautiful blooms and tender fruit. We've talents that are foundational to who we are but like the bulbs we have seasons when they're on show and seasons when they turn ugly and go into hiding.

Some seeds are dormant because it's not yet time.

It dawned on me recently that I've spent a lot of time worrying about when the dormant ones will appear; concerned that perhaps those seeds are defective and dead. While the whole time there has been a beautiful garden full of character, strength, compassion and grace, being lovingly tended by The Gardener. He has rained mercy on me, feed me in goodness and kindness, pruned me when needed and delighted over the glorious floral displays.

He is making beautiful things out of the dust and ALL things will bear blooms and an abundant harvest at exactly the right time. So, The Gardener invites us to wander with Him in the cool of the day, as He shows us what He has planted and uprooted in our lives. And He implores us to celebrate the Garden that we are now and rest in the assurance that He brings all things to completion.

Now, go smell some roses!

Disruption

Spring has sprung in Virginia - the glory of the blossom has been replaced by the dogwoods and tulips. The weather is warm but you still need a jacket and the bright red Cardinal birds have returned to serenade us in the mornings. We shake from our wintery sedentary existence and wander the cobbled streets of Old Town, marveling how the higgled-piggled, coloured houses reflect the sun and the flowers in their window boxes.

How do those tulips push through the soil after the dormant winter? All that's required to produce a bright, red and orange trumpet hides in a bulb and then, right on time with all the others, bursts forth. Amazing. Tis' mystery all.

Now, it's Good Friday and I probably should be writing about Christ's setting aside of himself to suffer and die on our behalf. Telling you that forgiveness always has to cost someone, something; and that we all have to make some response to this Jesus' self-less act.

But Lisa, it's a lovely day, I hear you cry, some of us are on holiday for a few days, away with you and these morbid thoughts of death, sure Easter is coming on Sunday and we'll all be happy again.

It's so typical of Jesus - the master of the Art of Disruption. He's always leading people to do the unseemly; always keeping people guessing; always asking the impossible of his followers. He's always healing and loving in unusual ways, in untimely, unusual places. In His love He pursues, instigates and agitates....us.

So, what are you going to do with Jesus? How is He pursuing you? How has he instigated relationship with you? How has He got under your skin?

This Good Friday, full of sorrow and spring-time joy; turn your face to One who thought enough of you to choose the Disrupted Route to glory.