Grateful Acres

   I've been reading through scripture in an attempt to read cover to cover in one calendar year. The rich, slow, intricate story of the Old Testament has been wonderful, but as this year comes to a close I found myself craving the vibrancy of the New Testament. I skipped forward a bit and jumped into Matthew, and it has felt like guzzling water after a long, dry wait.    This morning I was in Matthew 13, devouring the stories and parables of Jesus. Chapter 13 includes the parable of the sower and the variety of outcomes of his seeds. Most of it is Sunday-school familiar; some seeds fall on the path and birds eat them, some seeds on rocky ground and quickly sprouted and died for lack of depth, some fell in thorns and are choked out, and some on good soil and reproduce in droves.    What struck me this morning was Jesus' explanation of the thorns later in the chapter... He said: " Now the one sown among the thorns- this is the one who hears the word, but the worries of this

I have a couple trees in pots. I bought a few of them a few years ago and a few of them a few more years ago. Ok, maybe I have more than just "a couple" trees in pots. The cherry and apricot stubbornly sent roots out the bottom of their nursery buckets, refusing to be delayed in the planting process. The Asian pear is tiny and has obediently stayed in it's pot, faithfully giving as many little round pieces of fruit as it's tiny limbs can bear. The peach tree is trapped in a barrel with no holes to send rebel roots out of, and so is the pear.  I'm saving them for when we buy land, so they can put down roots where we put down roots. Last year the pear tree put out a whole lot of little odd-shaped nubs that looked so promising. The tree is just a bit over my head, and it was SO exciting to think of all the pears we would soon be slurping over our lunch plates! But just a few weeks in to growth something happened, and the tree shed every last one. No pears.  I don'

I had to rip out and re-do my largest garden bed this year. Twice.   I have spent the last few seasons sparsely planting, but with classes ending early this year I went a little nuts on the seeds yet again.  I pay my biggest boys in cold hard cash to till the soil each year. They upheld their end of the bargain, but I waited too long and before any seeds were underground, all that fresh soil was smothered in weeds. I tilled the soil again myself, and thoroughly planted a whole mess of hope-filled seeds!   When the starts came up, the weeds came up too, and in my gardenless years I had forgotten the distinguishing details of my hoped-for plants. I couldn't pull the weeds around those fresh little starts because I couldn't tell the difference between the good seed and the bad.  I almost over-spiritualized and let the ground lay fallow, but boy- lazy, hands-off gardening does not need to be followed by an unsanctioned, empty fallow! I left the garden to grow a littl

             See those curious little white flowers, awkwardly straining upward? They've stretched and soared unusually far above their leafy starts below. Know what they're doing? They're straining toward the light. This vine is planted in the ground below the bush it is crawling on, and the bush is growing beneath the shadow of the tree overhead. Those little flowers are growing beneath a shadow. In sunny, grassy circumstances, the flowers would burst out near their leaves. But in the circumstance of SHADOW, they must stretch and strain toward that light. The little starts in my window sill are leaning toward the glass, almost laying their little stalks flat in desperation to reach the light on the other side. The young Asian Pear tree in our back yard is full-tilt sideways toward the sunniest part of it's day, making every effort to soak up all the light needed for growth and fruit. Guys, IN THIS SEASON OF SHADOW, WE MUST STRAIN TOWARD THE LIGHT. W

" It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three, because the sun's light failed. The curtain of the sanctuary was split down the middle. And Jesus called out with a loud voice, 'Father, into your hands I entrust my spirit.' Saying this, he breathed his last..." "... It was the preparation day, and the sabbath was about to begin. The women who had come with him from Galilee followed along and observed the tomb and how his body was placed. Then they returned and prepared spices and perfumes. And they rested on the sabbath according to the commandment." Luke 23:44-45, 54-56 Immediately after Passover, a spiral of events of great eternal importance takes place: Jesus withdraws for fervent, bloodlike prayer, Judas betrays, Jesus is arrested, beaten and mocked, sent for trial, the crows turns and demands his crucifixion, men in power give in, nails pierce, the veil is torn, and while Jesus' body lays in a tomb... the p

I've been wading my way through the old testament these days, and I've noticed a pattern in the generations of kings after King David. We have King David on a pedestal of people to gain wisdom from, and the Bible just shows snapshots of most of the kings after him. Some serve the Lord and some spread evil.  2 Kings 14:3-4 shows the pattern I'm processing:    " He did what was right in the Lord's sight, but not like his ancestor David. He did everything his father Joash had done. Yet the high places were not taken away, and the people continued sacrificing and burning incense on the high places."    "...Yet the high places were not taken away..." I am certainly not a historian, but I do know that those high places (that both good and bad kings left in place for generations) were places where the Lord was NOT worshiped. They were places where something else was elevated, something else was given to, something else was sought for strength an

  "Consider it great joy, brothers and sisters, whenever you experience various trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have it's full effect, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking nothing." James 1:2-4   We've heard this before. We know in our heads and possibly our journeys that trials can produce good character. This time I noticed another layer: "... And let endurance have it's full effect..."   This reminds me of the throws of labor before childbirth. As the waves of pain come faster and fuller, it's crucial that a laboring mama lean IN to them and not against them. If we resist the painful squeeze, we are fighting against the outcome we want (less pain, more baby). Labor is most effective when a mama accepts each wave, stays calm, and keeps her eye on the prize at the end: when she endures fully.   In this season of new trials, may we endure fully.   I urge you to l

  The God of miracles. Disclaimer: I don't pretend to be a Bible expert; please read this passage for yourself, and allow the Lord to speak to you directly. This morning my regular reading landed me in 1 Kings 18, where the prophet Elijah holds a face-off with the prophets of Baal. It's just like the Lord to line up the words I need on the day I need them! I've been wrestling against a life situation that seems to be impossible (don't worry, we are all in good health). This weekend I found some bitterness I have let grow against the Lord for not doing the impossible on my behalf in the timeframe I want Him to. So very mature of me. The first thing that stood out to me about Elijah's actions is in verse 30:    "...Then he repaired the Lord's altar that had been torn down" My first priority needs to be building His kingdom.    "But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be provided for you. The

   A few Sundays ago, our pastor began a series about being a hungry church. Each angle he speaks from aims at one thing:   The blessing of being filled comes to those who are hungry. He is speaking from Matthew 5, a passage we affectionately call "The Beatitudes". I've been cooking on all this, and it is beginning to change me on the inside.  First, what am I actually hungry for? Where, and for what do I long? What do I ache for?  What do I feel like I'm without, lacking?  What do I think I need? Turns out, each place of longing (or hunger), is an opportunity to be filled.  What would happen if I turned each longing heavenward, and allowed the hunger to be filled with HIM? Can GOD fill my longing for a bigger house? Can GOD fill my longing for academic success for my little schoolhouse? Can HE fill my hunger for a quiet, peaceful home? I don't mean can He give me those things... I mean can He fill those longings with HIMSELF?  Of course He c