[A
Monday / Wednesday / Friday Devotional Feature of the First Road Blog]
I
delight in professional flower gardens and professionally landscaped homes. They are beautiful and informative. However, when it comes to my
own plant beds, my tastes are more intentionally amateurish. Of course it helps that I am not financially able to be “professional.” But, I’m not sure I would be if
I could. I like my own garden to be more than beauty and information. I want it to be a
collection of stories.
For example, we
bought our red powder puff in a plant show at Bok Tower gardens in October of
2012. It and a fire bush, a beauty berry bush and a couple plumbagos were our first ventures into
Florida-friendly plants. They started out small and unimpressive; but we nurtured them through some difficult times and watched them grow into prosperous bushes. There is nothing like a thriving
plant with a story of obstacles overcome. I don't have space here to tell of plants brought back from near-death experiences!
Then
there are those plants born in our house. Last February I found some cardboard palm
pods spilling their brilliant red seeds. I garnered some and planted them in a
box. Weeks later, Judy and I were excited to find the first leafy spear had emerged like
a coiled fern frond. Already I have a vision for their future.
If
you ever stop by, be warned. I may tell you stories. And I may mention Jesus’ parable of the
unfruitful fig tree. The owner was prepared to cut it down; but the
caretaker intervened. The various plants on whose behalf I have labored remind
me that every local church is a garden of individual plants each with a story of God's intervention. I suppose he could have been content with an angelic
landscape; but he chose to make a garden of redeemed sinners with stories to tell. Some
people think that’s a little strange, but I think I understand...at least a little.
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