Gardens need tending, but the results are amazing

Not my cup runneth over. My baskets runneth over. I went to my garden plots today.

I reserved two garden plots at the Community Garden this year. My backyard garden has never grown particularly well. There's a couple of things about the Community Garden that beats backyard gardening. First, it's a community -- I've met some nice people. Second, there's an educational component. Third, the ground has been worked for a couple of years. And finally, it is fenced and locked. My dog can't dig around in it.

The downside is, it's not in my backyard. I have to go out of my way to go there. And the garden has acquired a creeping vine that comes up everywhere.

So, it's monsoon season. And it's been days since I've been there. And as soon as I arrived, two things became rather obvious. The weeds are way ahead. And I should have picked produce a couple of days ago. I had to toss a couple of tomatoes. Some of the beans are a little past their prime. But the one Walmart bag I brought for the harvesting was barely big enough. I walked out with it stuffed to the top with tomatoes, beans and peppers. When I went to fill my garden basket, it overflowed. Second basket was over halfway full of tomatoes. Wow.

There's something joyful and relaxing about working in the garden. I tilled that soil. I added alpaca manure. I planted some seeds, and look what happened. Plants came up and then the blossoms set. The little beans and tomatoes and peppers appeared. I waited until they were the right size and color, and voila! I'm sure I've already paid for my supplies in fresh produce. I know I've paid for it in satisfaction.

As I picked and pulled weeds, it occurred to me that we aren't that much different from what's growing in the plots. All of us need some sunlight and lots of water, some harvesting and a little weeding from time to time. We need the Gardener to keep us straight and well-tended. Gardens don't grow to perfection without oversight and tending.

I still have zucchini and butternut squash to come. Onions and carrots are growing under the surface. I saw a little lettuce that I wasn't sure was even going to sprout. I planted a coleus and some nasturtiums and they are gorgeous.

I have enough to share -- perhaps with co-workers, maybe down at Open Door. I will freeze some of the beans for this fall and winter. I've eaten a few beans and tomatoes straight out of the garden, the freshest harvest you can experience. Mmm -- nothing like the taste of totally fresh vegetables.

A gardener, in the image of God

Genesis tells us that we were made in the image of God. Some days, I have a lot of trouble with that concept. I struggle with forgiveness, and He doesn't. I can't remember people's names, and He knows every sparrow, every hair on our heads.

But today, anyway, I'm OK with the idea that we have some connected lineage. We both like gardens. God was the original gardener: He created the soil, the rain, the sun. He made the first garden -- and set up one simple rule. But we're not very good at following His rules. Thank goodness for His forgiveness.

There's no apple trees in my plot at the Prescott Valley Community Garden. Typical Arizona garden: tomatoes, peppers, onions. Salsa, anyone? Then a few carrots, yellow and green beans, zucchini squash, and some lettuce and Brussels sprouts that may or may not take hold. A coleus and some orange nasturtiums for color.

It wouldn't be my garden without a few garden props. A cardinal that represents my mom, who taught me the value of a garden. A snail, one of the things my sister collected. It's a family garden, after all.

I love to watch plants burst through the soil. The moist warm earth signals them that it's OK to sprout. And they push their way upward, sometimes with cute little seed cover hats. I can't help but hum Peter, Paul and Mary's "Garden Song" as I watch the tomatoes and peppers blossom, and the rows of beans grow bushy.

But where did those weeds come from? I scattered good seeds in the fertilized and worked soil. Then, among the new plants, crabgrass and some ubiquitous vine that comes up everywhere start filling in the spaces between the rows. Truth be told, there's almost no difference between my garden plants and the weeds; the plants are the ones I like, and the weeds are the ones I dislike.

Maybe the Lord felt the same way about weeds. He spoke to the fisherman about the things they knew, and the gardeners about that which they knew. He knew about thistles, and probably crabgrass and vines and alfalfa. Gardens need tending. The good stuff doesn't grow well if it is choked out by weeds.

On the other hand, in the right place, those weeds are cattle fodder. The ranchers encourage the alfalfa and even buy alfalfa hay. I have no use for alfalfa, but in the right hands, this clover grass raises grass-fed cattle. A peaceful verdant pasture with purple flowers. Something I have no use for ends up as a useful tool in another's garden. Another lesson about the diverse gifts of others.

Today I will gauge the moisture in the soil that is benefiting from the monsoon rain's early arrival. I will carefully remove the grass and vines and look for the ripening fruit. I will share some of my first fruits with those who hunger in our community. And enjoy the rest that gardens provide.