Seed

This is the time of year when throughout the South, Hastings’ Seed Catalogues typically arrive in mailboxes. Starting in 1827 Hastings’, through its (now colorful) catalogs, inspired generations of gardeners. The catalogs’ arrival is perfectly timed; as I write this, ice covers my deck! All but the most tenacious leaves are gone from my Oak, Hickory, and poplar trees. My Corgi looks at me like, “You can’t mean I have to go out onto that ice in this polar weather! I think I’ll just hold it a while longer!” As for me, my winter coat, ski cap, crampons, and gloves are nearby! The National Weather Service shows that our local temperature will not rise from an overnight freeze more than four (4) degrees today.

Into all this wintery mix of gloom, cold, and wet misery, comes hope; the Seed Catalogs! Their pages radiate a rainbow of brilliant, sparkling colors; shiny red tomatoes, rows of emerald green corn, squash bursting in bright yellow, purple eggplants aglow among their soft green plants, and bright arrays of other luscious fruits and vegetables flesh out the pages! They explode prismatic in the midst of this day’s dreary weather. The Seed Catalogs almost shout “There is hope!” Even though I have nothing even close to a “Green Thumb” these pages almost tempt me to grab a shovel and dig into gardening.

The Cherokee Garden Library, at the Atlanta History Center, says Historic seed and nursery catalogs are windows into our horticultural past. They tell us which plants and seeds were available in different time periods. The catalogs include valuable information on varieties, requirements for growing, and planting schedules in addition to trends in Southern farming, gardening, and landscape design. Most of all, those seed catalogs herald hope! Springtime is coming! That is the joy of Seed and Nursery catalogs; hope.

Henri Nouwen places great emphasis on hope; a person of hope looks beyond the fulfillment of urgent wishes and desires…and offers a vision beyond human suffering…-because of of the Eternal Promise given. I think of the Captain of a sailing ship. Once launched from shore, the ship’s course is guided by the stars (even modern electronics depend on magnetic pull—as well as Satellite connections). The distant shore is yet unseen by the captain. Wind, rain, storms, tides, rage against the ship. Mid-course corrections must be made constantly because of earth rotation. Yet the captain remains confident of the distant port; hope in action.

Abraham is the prototype of a person of hope. At age seventy five, he heard God’s call; Imagine yourself at age 75. What would be your response to that gauzy call? He was called to leave his 75 year-old homeplace and “Go…” to where he did not know— “…a place I will show you,” he was told. So he, his wife, family, and basically the entire home place packed up and left….for parts unknown. He had hope, because of God’s Promise. He traveled until God settled him down. Abraham’s journey left what I have called “An Altar Dotted Trail”—marking his path of hope and obedience toward that Promise.

We are the ones who can plant seeds of hope. There’s an old Indian proverb, Blessed is he who plants trees under whose shade he will never sit. We are living now our legacy for generations to come. We can raise the ante by the kind of seed catalog we leave. An ancient Christian writer said, hope “…is the evidence of things not seen.”

The Apostle Paul believes hope is always a vision of things not seen. Not a misty, vapor-like mirage; but hope based on his process of extrapolating. He projects a deep sense of joy-filled hope. I like the seeds of hope Paul plants. What seeds are you planting?