It has been a number of years since I have planted a garden. Last fall, Mike made me some fabulous planter boxes, so I won’t have to kneel down to weed and tend. So, I couldn’t wait to get started this spring. They are just the right height!
Unfortunately, I discovered rather quickly, that the deer think so too. We figured they would find us eventually, but Mike was hoping to get up a deer fence before they realized that my lettuce was at exactly the same height as their mouths. Devin and I found some netting and a few stakes, so we have a temporary stalemate with our neighborhood herd. And I think the lettuce may even recover.
So, until Mike gets a chance to finish our fencing scheme, I am watching my garden through the netting. I planted a few plants, and a few seeds. As usual, when I plant a garden, I have included okra. Since marrying a native of Oklahoma, planting okra has become a tradition. You may not realize this, but Montana is not really an okra-friendly climate. Several years I got plants that were all of four inches tall. Two years in a row, I actually got blossoms! And one year—success! I had three little okra pods! Not quite enough to fill a frying pan for my man who misses his favorite dish of fried okra. I thought I would get a head start on it this year, by planting the seeds in little pots, and putting them in a warm window. They didn’t come up. So, I got another package, and just took a chance at planting them in my raised bed garden. I haven’t seen any sign of life so far, but I am not giving up hope.
If it doesn’t produce this year, I will try again next year. In the meantime, Mike has probably been able to score some fried okra on his trip to Oklahoma. At least, I hope so. This isn’t the first time I have struggled with growing what I wanted to grow. Back when my kids were little, my garden was much larger. We lived in Wyoming, and although the season was very short, I could count on at least growing beets and green beans. My downfall was trying to grow tomatoes. The season was never quite long enough to get to my tomatoes to ripen. If I tried to plant them earlier, the frost would kill them. If I planted later, I might get a bumper crop of blossoms and fruit—but just about the time my mouth was watering, the frost would snatch away my victory. It was very frustrating.
It is funny how this garden metaphor has been engaging my thoughts this week. Or maybe not so strange, since I have been enjoying being outdoors and working in the yard. But, there are parallels between what I am doing with my yard and garden and the learning curve we have been experiencing as a church and denomination in this era. Over the last fifteen years or so, I have studied some of the trends and transitions, read vast amounts of books, attended dozens of seminars and workshops. I have learned a great deal about the “whys” and some of the “hows” of decline in church vitality. It has only gradually dawned on me, that I may have been working at things from the wrong end. Maybe it isn’t so much about what we have or haven’t done to keep up with cultural discontinuity. Maybe it has more to do with learning the new cultural climate.
We—you and I—need to learn to be Master Gardeners in a brand new garden. We won’t know which seeds will grow, until we plant. We will have to be willing to be innovative, patient, creative. We will need to be risk takers. Some crops will fail. We will start again. Even when we have done all that—and sprouts begin to appear–the garden is not going to look like the one we remembered. ( I may never get okra to grow.) I’m not sure what the harvest is going to look like, but I do know that it will be glorious! What an exciting time to be in this work!
Happy Gardening. Blessings, Pastor Nancy