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October Garlic Planting – Patience Part 2

I don’t consider myself a gardener, but today I donned my gloves, grabbed a shovel and hoe, and planted eight garlic cloves in the clay beside our house. Tomorrow my husband will mulch some fallen leaves and spread a layer over the tiny garden. Then we will wait for November, December, January, February, March, April, and May to pass, hoping to harvest garlic in June. I have a good bit of confidence that the harvest will come despite the weather’s unpredictability and the various critters who munch on our foliage. Why? Because in the two previous years, I have planted garlic this way and been blessed with success.

My first attempt, though, was a failure. I bought a head of garlic at the grocery store, broke it apart, and planted it in the spring. Some plants came up, but failed to produce garlic heads underground. Then, in the summer of 2015, I met a man who was selling garlic at a festival. He was passionate about his products, and I took a bit of time to ask him some questions about growing garlic. I took some home and followed his instructions, confident that I was starting with better seed and knowledge. I separated the cloves of one head and planted them in the fall. They sprouted in the spring and put on scapes (surprise!). I waited until late June to carefully dig around the plants and found a crop. Seven heads of garlic from one!

I treated myself to that cute little pot to hold the fruits of my labor.

There was satisfaction in growing fresh garlic to add to my recipes. I kept the largest head aside so it could be divided into cloves and planted in the fall. The garlic I planted today is the result of that planting – and waiting.

I expect each of these cloves to produce a head of four or five cloves.

Growing things takes time and patience. Garlic is really easy. After it’s in the ground and covered for the winter, I don’t do anything but wait. I find wonder in the way a plant grows from a seed. The resulting homegrown ingredient is a blessing, but not a necessity for us. The gentleman who sold me the garlic depends on having a product to sell. A family who grows and preserves their own food knows the stress of waiting and hoping conditions are right for a good harvest. The farmer’s patience is held up as an example in the Bible. James says to Christians who are being persecuted, “See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop and how patient he is for the autumn and spring rains. You, too, be patient and stand firm, for the Lord’s coming is near.” (James 5:7,8)

My last writing was called Waiting for the Sun – Patience Part 1. I had begun a post about patience before and put it aside, waiting until inspiration came with the Morning Star. Today, as I completed little tasks and thought about patience, many seeds began to sprout on the topic. Mustering some discipline, I’ve been jotting them down today – putting them in the ground, so to speak. My faithful Father God gave inspiration again, this time through garlic planting. I’m not putting a limit on this series about patience. It may be continued for weeks. I may insert something else and later come back to it. The topic is relevant in my life and, I believe, in the lives of the people around me.

How about you? Is patience something you would like to cultivate?

My little Oregano and Garlic garden. Planting while the sun shines!

 

 

 

 

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Waiting for the Sun – Patience Part 1

On this cloudy Monday morning, I’m thinking about how my week began seven days ago. On that morning, I woke up in a vacation resort at Boyne Mountain, Michigan. It was still dark, and my husband was still sleeping.  We had traveled with his brother, sisters, and in-laws on Sunday to where we would spend three precious days together. I had welcomed the comfortable bed and slept well, and was now looking forward to some quiet time for prayer and reading before the busy day ahead. I slipped out of the bedroom and over to the living room window to pull back the drapery for a peek outside. A solitary star still shone brightly despite the attempts of a few clouds to hide it.  I smiled and praised Creator God for the gift, still planning to turn on a lamp and sit down to read Scripture. But as I looked again, a deep red glow was appearing atop the tree covered hills, directly below my star. I was facing east, where darkness was about to turn to light! The prelude promised a breathtaking show of star, clouds, and sun. And I had a choice to make.

I rarely watch the sun rise. Our home is surrounded by houses, hills, and trees that eliminate a horizon view. Beyond that (and I hate to admit it) sunrises and sunsets have a hard time holding my attention. Oh, I’m quick to grab my camera and snap a picture when God has painted a beautiful scene in the sky, but sitting still and watching something happen with almost imperceptible movement …well, it takes patience.

Would I face the window and wait, or just take a look in a few minutes to check on daybreak’s progress? I chose well.

Can you see the star? I believe it is actually Venus.

As my husband slept and all was quiet, I spent the next forty-five minutes appreciating the dance of the new day. The star would fade, but the sun would rise. As I watched nature’s show, I thought about the patience required to wait in life’s dark situations with hope that the dawn is coming. When we are troubled and days are difficult, darkness seems so strong. We don’t know what the future holds, and the days drag on with imperceptible progress.  Dare we hope that beauty and light are coming?

On another morning, thick clouds hid both the star and the sun.

Life’s snapshots are not the whole story. It takes great patience to walk through trials. Even as a believer in the promise of eternity through Jesus Christ, I’m sometimes stricken with feelings of fear and uncertainty. I’d like to skip to the happy ending. But I do dare to hope, reminding myself of the words of King David when he was surrounded by enemies, “Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord.” (Psalm 31:24)

So glad I got up to see this instead of going back to sleep!

The stunning sunrise made my waiting worthwhile. Of course, even the cloudy days have a sunrise that is just out of sight. I want to be patient even in discouragement, trusting that darkness will  turn to light in God’s timing and way.

Even in darkness light dawns for the upright,
    for those who are gracious and compassionate and righteous.
 Good will come to those who are generous and lend freely,
    who conduct their affairs with justice.

 Surely the righteous will never be shaken;
    they will be remembered forever.
 They will have no fear of bad news;
    their hearts are steadfast, trusting in the Lord.

Psalm 112:4-7

 

 

 

 

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Small Things Matter

Sharing some thoughts about a lovely morning that my husband and I experienced three years ago because I didn’t get anything new written this week.

“Sunday Morning Submission”                 Lisa Frisch                            June 22, 2014

Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. Ephesians 5:21

Here’s what mutual submission looked like in our home and marriage this morning.  My husband and I were sitting at the breakfast table when five “beeps” from the microwave indicated that my tea was ready.  He quickly got up, retrieved my cup for me, and resumed eating his cereal.  Then, while he was in the shower, I noticed that the Sunday newspaper was in the driveway.  Knowing what an important part of his morning the paper is, I went out and got it, took off the bag and rubber band, and laid it on the kitchen table before heading upstairs to get ready for church.  While I was showering, he made our bed, a chore that is mine on weekdays.  As I entered the bedroom, I remembered that he leaves on a business trip tomorrow and asked if he needed any laundry done today.  Never mind that I was glad the answer was “no” since I don’t usually do laundry on Sundays.

Here’s why these small things, done with the other person’s comfort and happiness in mind, are so important.  Having him get my tea for me and make our bed made me feel loved and cared for.  Not having to go out for his newspaper and realizing that I would help him prepare for his trip gave him the assurance that his needs are important to me.  Neither of us demanded or even asked the other to perform these acts.  But, by doing so, we have built a foundation of loving trust that our spouse is looking out for us and wants to add to our contentment.  That becomes very important when any sort of conflict or difficult decision arises.  At that time, each of us can be sure that the other is not only concerned about his/her opinion or desire, but that there is goodwill toward the other and an intention to seek and do what is best for both of us.

Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.
 Philippians 2:4

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My Cringe-worthy County Fair Memory

Born and raised in Ohio, my husband and I both looked forward to our respective county fairs.  One of my earliest memories from my family’s trips to the fair is picking out a souvenir as we were leaving. I managed to find an e-bay picture of one that I chose, a furry monkey attached to a stick with elastic – creepy.

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I remember riding the pony ride and the Ferris wheel  and gobbling up fair food, particularly the sweet, crispy waffles – tasty.

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The fair in Wyandot County ( Where I Come From) is held in mid-September. I remember it being really hot on some days and pretty darn chilly on others. Whether it was hot or cold, rainy or dry, the fair was the place to be, especially for those of us in 4-H clubs.  I focused on sewing, photography, and crafts and have often appreciated learning to mend and sew. Here’s one of my sewing projects from the 70s – bright.

I remember helping my 4-H advisor decorate our fair booth. My right hand blistered and ached from cutting out corrugated cardboard four-leaf clovers – painful.

Image result for cardboard 4-H clover

Four leaves for Head, Hands, Heart, and Health.

I remember going to the fair with my girlfriends and walking around with the hope of seeing certain boys.  It was usually pretty fun. But one night I got myself into quite a predicament – cringe-worthy.

In thinking about what happened that night, two song lyrics come to mind – “I am fifteen going on sixteen.” and “Why must I be a teenager in love?”

It was county fair time during September of my junior year of high school. I was still desperately wanting to reunite with the guy I had dated in the spring. He was moving on. I needed to get his attention.

I happened to be at the fair on the evening when 4-H lambs were being judged, and was hanging out with a girlfriend who had lambs. We were in the sheep barn talking about personal stuff before her time to show her lambs for judging. Realizing that a certain guy might also be in the vicinity, a plan was hatched. I have a hard time thinking that it was my idea, so it must have been hers.

As I mentioned, I took sewing 4-H projects, never animals. My only experience with sheep had been adoring the tiny bottle-fed lambs at my grandma’s house and occasionally touching a sheep at a petting zoo. Still, my fifteen-year-old mind, prompted by my broken teenage heart, agreed to TAKE ONE OF HER LAMBS INTO THE ARENA FOR JUDGING. She made it sound easy. It was not.

I guess I assumed that the sheep would know what to do. It either did not, or it somehow realized that I was not its shepherd.  When a 95 lb. girl tries to control an 80 lb. lamb in front of judges and an audience that possibly contains a certain guy, she finds herself wanting to disappear. Hope arose when I spotted another guy from my church youth group helping with the judging. I can’t even imagine what he thought when I begged him to help me. There wasn’t much he could do. I either managed to stay on my feet and fake some semblance of doing what the judge asked or have blocked out an incident of being dragged around by a lamb. I don’t remember how we got out of the ring. I also did not see the faces of anyone in the stands.

Later, when I asked my friend what her project score was, she told me that she expected that pen of lambs to get a B anyway. She’s a good friend. No one else ever mentioned the incident to me.

So why would I tell  you about it? It just seemed good to keep my post light this week. There are still a lot of serious thoughts rolling around in my head, thoughts that may be collected and shared soon. But for now, you can laugh a little and know that while at that time I felt certain that the two of should be reunited, God had a wonderful plan for me to meet and marry my husband.

And there’s another song lyric. “God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you.” He’s a much better shepherd than I am.

I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. John 10:11