I have never been a good gardner, and I have a few verifying stories; My first garden was, in a manner of speaking, a hilarious horror story. I was offered a plot of fallow land to try my hand at gardening. I’m guessing it was about a half acre. I hired a local man to prepare the soil, lay out rows, and plant the entire plot. I only had a hoe and a rake for cultivating. You already know this will not end well.
The hired man planted squash, cucumbers, beans, corn, and, I think, watermelons. My garden was about a half mile from home. Every morning I went eagerly to check on the plants. As they began to sprout, I grabbed my hoe and chopped grass and weeds. The rows were long. It seemed that before I got to the end of a row, weeds were already popping up at the other end. I learned (too late) from a neighbor that the plot was known for its infestation of crabgrass. Guess who won.
My next, and final attempt at a garden was some years later. The plot was no larger than a gravestone (simile intended). I planted radishes, tomatoes, and eggplants. The tomatoes succumbed to aggressive tomato worms. The eggplants produced cute little purple products , harvested waaay too early by a couple of little blonde-headed girls. The radishes came up like gangbusters, but didn’t provide a great deal of produce, because—this, too, a later learned lesson;I didn’t thin the radishes. Those beautiful little plants looked too healthy to rip out! I was averse to ripping up any of them.
But I did learn some lessons. One; Plan carefully; and smart (both would’ve saved me from the crabgrass). Jesus gave some good advice about the uncertainty of the future. Lesson two: “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.” Jesus also made a point about that; count the costs, he admonished his hearers.
I think my most important lesson was that in order to assure healthy, sustainable growth—in a garden, lawn, or in life, is learning to prune appropriately. It kinda relates the the other lessons I mentioned. It is important to choose carefully what, how, and who takes up space in your head or heart, or your garden. It is not always rubbish that crowds out the good. Sometimes the “good” as in mediocre, or good intentions crowd in displacing “Better.”
A story out of the 1800’s tells of a boy who heard the circus was coming to town. He, saw posters about it, and begged to go. He managed to earn the dollar admission and excitedly went to see the circus. He saw a crowd, and heard the band. Making his way through the crowd to the street; the colorful circus wagons with caged animals rolledby; he saw the marching band, the tall man on stilts, and trapeze artists passing by. One of the clowns came by and reached out to shake hands. The boy handed him his dollar and rushed home to tell he had been to the circus!
It is a sad parable of hoping for bounty, not inquiring deeply, and being satisfied with too little; seeing the parade is not experiencing the circus. I am convinced that it is God’s plan for us to experience the entire circus—the fullness of His kingdom, now and forever. Yet, our tendency is to grow our lives like I grew my sad gardens; trying to go it all alone without a plan, allowing avarice to drive our goals; being unwilling to offload hindering baggage. And. That is kinda strange, because Jesus said if we follow him, his payload is light.