When I saw Matthew 13 my heart sunk. I’m so glad I didn’t close your email . I will reread this again. I’m 84 and I’m still learning that God is a gracious and compassionate God.
My succulents are the only ones thriving in this heat dome of 100-110 F highs. The marigolds and mint are holding on, but the other flowers are not loving it. Veggies were dried up and gone months ago. I got a few peas this year, and some strawberries and mini carrots, but they seem like a distant memory too. Lol
We live in Wyoming where the growing season is short. I shared your meaningful essay with my husband, who struggles with his garden. Thank you for your timely message. I wouldn’t miss your posts.
Standing at the train station In Montpelier, Vermont I’m reading your honest words. I feel a little like Anne with a E as I stand next on the hundred year old platform. I too am a gardener but this year of transition did not allow me to plant one single thing In a veggie garden. I’m full of dreams of what to plant next spring as I learn the differences between my home state of California and my new home
Here. I love your thoughts on comparison. Yes, it will hurt us.
This gem hit me. “ It’s remarkable how easily my eye turns to the shortcomings, ignoring the good harvest.” I’m soaking in a new harvest today of being present with my husband and laughing with my grand babies. I sure don’t want to ignore my good harvest just because it’s a different harvest this season. Thank you Jeff. Your words travel far and wide and give me encouragement.
I really appreciated your take a on a parable that often left me feeling very inadequate as a kid.
My balcony garden manages to get maybe three hours of sun on the longest days of the year, so I can't get much to grow. I grow basil, green onions, and greens. For two years I grew lovely tomato plants that refused to flower, so I resigned myself to growing what I could.
Who says the rows in our gardens need to be perfect? You and Fozzie are enjoying the sunshine, admiring the flowers, pondering thoughts to share, and working towards the goal of food on the table -- the important things.
Years ago, our local museum had an exhibit of African American Quilts. They used the same basic patterns, such as Log Cabin, Bear Paw, Pineapple, but the quilters did not worry about European perfection. This was an intentional Freedom Issue. So be as free with your garden as God is with his sowing!
I’m a container gardener in the East Bay Area outside San Francisco: my long bed of clay that parallels the house is too hard to break up and I have large pots balanced on flat rocks on top of the clay. Last year I had so many cherry tomatoes and the pickling cucumbers provided many pints of dills. Green beans grown in a long window box were plentiful and the jalapeños kept my heat loving granddaughter happy. This year has been pitiful. I got three tiny tomatoes on one plant that one of our dogs loved. One pint of dills. A few handfuls of cherry tomatoes and I can’t even talk about the green beans. Yes it was a weird Spring, but seriously. What went wrong? I had not properly prepared the soil in the big pots after two growing seasons. Poor soil, unthinking gardener.
Thank you for you writing. Your gentle spirit shines through every word.
I love the name change to “mediocre gardener” vs. a “make-believe farmer.” You are definitely a gardener :) I am less than mediocre, and you inspire me to try growing things again vs. just assuming I’ll kill everything so why try anyway!
This essay is lovely and I’m looking forward to listening to the sermon about the sower and the field. I am always intrigued by looking at the Bible in fresh ways, seeing something differently than what I was taught in Sunday school!
I'm thinking through the parable of the sower and the seed. I love your take on it - it becomes a parable of possibility instead of fear. I'm a container gardener and relatively new to the climate of the northwest (OR). I spend a lot of time tending my tomato plants, covering them with a shade cloth to protect from our brutal record-breaking temps still happening and keeping them watered. My husband and I volunteer at an indigenous-owned farm where the harvest is much more rewarding! Learning so much and gaining new appreciation for all that mother earth provides in spite of our mistakes.
My garden is flowers and gloriously random. Caring for the beds is a place of meditation and purpose for me. I try but have little control and I can accept that in this part of my life bc I am usually surprised at the results. You never know what the soil will and can do. I was writing a meditation on the Sower passage once and talked to my BFF ( best farmer friend) about planting in these days with computerized tractors & such. He does wheat, cotton , canola and simply said “we can put the seed exactly where we intend it to go”. I think about that when I read this passage and find grace knowing seeds are intentionally sown in many ways and places. Peace to you, Jeff, and much gratitude for your words and spirit.
Have you read Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower? One of my favorite books. I tend to go here first when I hear ‘parable if the sower’ now. This idea of change being something we can count on, and what we do about it. Part of what we do needs to be to have empathy.
I’m reading The Tao of Vegetable Gardening because I think I’m finally ready to try growing vegetables and herbs. (I’m a 5, so I have to get ready!) I have a monster aloe plant and all it’s babies, a few succulents, an Irish lily passed down through my husband’s family, and a couple hardy plants from my step-grandmother that I can keep alive. I can’t seem to keep trees alive, which makes me sad. But I’ll try that again one day too. I always look forward to your garden updates -- they have helped me feel more comfortable with trying, failing, and being okay with what is.
I really enjoyed your take on the parable of to sower. He never stops casting seeds. We always have a chance to improve our soil. If it isn't right for every type of seed right now that's ok. Some seeds require stratifcation, scarification, or extra time to germinate. Seeds can lie dormant until conditions are right. Very interesting topic and substack!
“…and anyway, the thorny plants aren’t immortal. None of these circumstances is terminal.“
Love this take on the soil. I also struggle with never feeling like I’m doing enough.
When I saw Matthew 13 my heart sunk. I’m so glad I didn’t close your email . I will reread this again. I’m 84 and I’m still learning that God is a gracious and compassionate God.
My succulents are the only ones thriving in this heat dome of 100-110 F highs. The marigolds and mint are holding on, but the other flowers are not loving it. Veggies were dried up and gone months ago. I got a few peas this year, and some strawberries and mini carrots, but they seem like a distant memory too. Lol
We live in Wyoming where the growing season is short. I shared your meaningful essay with my husband, who struggles with his garden. Thank you for your timely message. I wouldn’t miss your posts.
Standing at the train station In Montpelier, Vermont I’m reading your honest words. I feel a little like Anne with a E as I stand next on the hundred year old platform. I too am a gardener but this year of transition did not allow me to plant one single thing In a veggie garden. I’m full of dreams of what to plant next spring as I learn the differences between my home state of California and my new home
Here. I love your thoughts on comparison. Yes, it will hurt us.
This gem hit me. “ It’s remarkable how easily my eye turns to the shortcomings, ignoring the good harvest.” I’m soaking in a new harvest today of being present with my husband and laughing with my grand babies. I sure don’t want to ignore my good harvest just because it’s a different harvest this season. Thank you Jeff. Your words travel far and wide and give me encouragement.
I really appreciated your take a on a parable that often left me feeling very inadequate as a kid.
My balcony garden manages to get maybe three hours of sun on the longest days of the year, so I can't get much to grow. I grow basil, green onions, and greens. For two years I grew lovely tomato plants that refused to flower, so I resigned myself to growing what I could.
Who says the rows in our gardens need to be perfect? You and Fozzie are enjoying the sunshine, admiring the flowers, pondering thoughts to share, and working towards the goal of food on the table -- the important things.
Years ago, our local museum had an exhibit of African American Quilts. They used the same basic patterns, such as Log Cabin, Bear Paw, Pineapple, but the quilters did not worry about European perfection. This was an intentional Freedom Issue. So be as free with your garden as God is with his sowing!
I’m a container gardener in the East Bay Area outside San Francisco: my long bed of clay that parallels the house is too hard to break up and I have large pots balanced on flat rocks on top of the clay. Last year I had so many cherry tomatoes and the pickling cucumbers provided many pints of dills. Green beans grown in a long window box were plentiful and the jalapeños kept my heat loving granddaughter happy. This year has been pitiful. I got three tiny tomatoes on one plant that one of our dogs loved. One pint of dills. A few handfuls of cherry tomatoes and I can’t even talk about the green beans. Yes it was a weird Spring, but seriously. What went wrong? I had not properly prepared the soil in the big pots after two growing seasons. Poor soil, unthinking gardener.
Thank you for you writing. Your gentle spirit shines through every word.
I love the name change to “mediocre gardener” vs. a “make-believe farmer.” You are definitely a gardener :) I am less than mediocre, and you inspire me to try growing things again vs. just assuming I’ll kill everything so why try anyway!
This essay is lovely and I’m looking forward to listening to the sermon about the sower and the field. I am always intrigued by looking at the Bible in fresh ways, seeing something differently than what I was taught in Sunday school!
I'm thinking through the parable of the sower and the seed. I love your take on it - it becomes a parable of possibility instead of fear. I'm a container gardener and relatively new to the climate of the northwest (OR). I spend a lot of time tending my tomato plants, covering them with a shade cloth to protect from our brutal record-breaking temps still happening and keeping them watered. My husband and I volunteer at an indigenous-owned farm where the harvest is much more rewarding! Learning so much and gaining new appreciation for all that mother earth provides in spite of our mistakes.
My garden is flowers and gloriously random. Caring for the beds is a place of meditation and purpose for me. I try but have little control and I can accept that in this part of my life bc I am usually surprised at the results. You never know what the soil will and can do. I was writing a meditation on the Sower passage once and talked to my BFF ( best farmer friend) about planting in these days with computerized tractors & such. He does wheat, cotton , canola and simply said “we can put the seed exactly where we intend it to go”. I think about that when I read this passage and find grace knowing seeds are intentionally sown in many ways and places. Peace to you, Jeff, and much gratitude for your words and spirit.
This is lovely, Jeff. Glad I found you on here.
Have you read Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower? One of my favorite books. I tend to go here first when I hear ‘parable if the sower’ now. This idea of change being something we can count on, and what we do about it. Part of what we do needs to be to have empathy.
I’m reading The Tao of Vegetable Gardening because I think I’m finally ready to try growing vegetables and herbs. (I’m a 5, so I have to get ready!) I have a monster aloe plant and all it’s babies, a few succulents, an Irish lily passed down through my husband’s family, and a couple hardy plants from my step-grandmother that I can keep alive. I can’t seem to keep trees alive, which makes me sad. But I’ll try that again one day too. I always look forward to your garden updates -- they have helped me feel more comfortable with trying, failing, and being okay with what is.
I really enjoyed your take on the parable of to sower. He never stops casting seeds. We always have a chance to improve our soil. If it isn't right for every type of seed right now that's ok. Some seeds require stratifcation, scarification, or extra time to germinate. Seeds can lie dormant until conditions are right. Very interesting topic and substack!