How does my garden grow?

One person plants and someone else harvests. – John 4:37 (NLT)

Hubby and I are ready for gardening season. The seeds are bought and the ground is tilled—twice as much as last year.

This year, Lord willing, we’ll be harvesting green and yellow beans, peas, beets, tomatoes, two kinds of green peppers, spaghetti and butternut squash, pumpkins, red potatoes, and onions. We’ll enjoy fresh lettuce and cucumbers. I still haven’t decided about the carrots, though. They can be buggers to scrape and clean.

Gardening’s a lot of work, but, for me, there are few things in life more satisfying than watching the seeds we plant sprout, grow and blossom—then harvesting and preserving that which I planted and nurtured with my own hands. And this year, I’ve vowed to keep the weeds pulled so it’ll be easier to find the green beans—even if I have to notch up the nagging just a bit.

Kingdom work is gardening, too. But the person who plants isn’t always the person who gets to harvest. Teamwork and unselfishness are the requisites for a bumper crop.

First, there’s the soil preparer. This is the person who plows, tills, and fertilizes the soil to make it ready to receive the seed. This is usually God, who arranges and allows events in our lives to turn us upside-down, break up clods of stubbornness and pride, and remove rocks of selfishness. He allows the rains to come to soften us further.

Then along comes the seed planter, who either knowingly or unknowingly plants the seed of God’s Word by what he says and how he lives his life. Seed planters need a lot of faith, for they rarely see the harvest. They seldom get a pat on the back. Most have to wait until they get to heaven to see the fruits of their labors.

After the seed planter comes the nurturer. This is the person who cultivates the young growing plants, removing weeds, plucking bugs, keeping the soil soft and porous, and watering and applying fertilizer occasionally throughout the growing season. He often has to put up a fence and come up with other methods to keep predators out. The nurturer gets the satisfaction of watching the plants mature and thrive. But he doesn’t get to enjoy the harvest.

The harvesters do. They reap the benefits of the work of others. They get the satisfaction of leading a soul to salvation.

Doesn’t seem fair, does it?

But unless the soil has been prepared, the seed planted, and the young plant nurtured, there would be nothing to harvest. So the harvester can’t take all the credit.

The apostle Paul understood this well. “I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow,” he wrote. “The man who plants and the man who waters have one purpose, and each will be rewarded according to his own labor” (1 Corinthians 3:6,8).

Jesus, too, often used gardening to illustrate Kingdom work. And He said all workers will receive their due.

“What joy awaits both the planter and the harvester alike!” (John 4:36 NLT)

I’m not a harvester. I get discouraged often. And when I do, the words of the song by Ray Boltz, “Thank You,” reminds me that only eternity will reveal the lives that were changed by what we’ve said or done.

Until then, it’s always gardening season.

I’m not a harvester, Lord. Give me the assurance that there will be a harvest for all my efforts, that my life and work will not be in vain. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read John 4:35–38

Just my cup of tea

Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others. – 1 Peter 4:10 (NIV)

I’ve been a tea drinker since I was a young girl, and over the years, I’ve learned how to make the perfect cup of tea. Most simply, pour boiling water over a teabag in a cup or a teapot, cover, and let it steep for three to five minutes.

The water must be boiling to get the full flavor of the tea—hot water draws out the flavor faster. The hotter, the better. You can make a decent tea with cold or lukewarm water—it just takes longer. Like sun tea, which is made by placing a few teabags in a jar or jug of water—the container should be transparent glass—and setting it in the sun for a few hours.

When the tea’s brewed, remove the teabag and, if you choose, add sweetener and milk. I prefer French Vanilla creamer. Unless it’s herbal tea. That I drink as is.

No matter what kind of tea you prefer, tea is good for you. Tea’s benefits, studies have shown, go from A to Z: it helps to slow down the aging process, lower blood pressure, beat bacteria and regenerate cells. It assists the body in preventing cancer, aids your immune system, fights cavities and reduces plaque, aids digestion, prevents diabetes, keeps you hydrated, lowers stress hormone levels, and reduces the risk of heart attack and stroke.

Not to worry about caffeine. At 40 mg. per cup, tea has less than half the amount of caffeine than coffee, which has 85 mg. Most herbal teas have none.

A cup of tea in mid-afternoon both relaxes me and gives me a boost.

So what does this have to do with God? After all, this is a “religious” column, right?

Simple: Each of us is a cup of tea to be served to a stressed-out world that’s dying of thirst.

The teabag is the gift you’ve received from God. Our God-given gifts—and we all have them—aren’t meant to pad our own pocketbooks and feather our own nests. Our diverse gifts, like the countless types and flavors of tea, are to be used to serve others.

“We have different gifts, according to the grace given us . . . let him use it (his gift) in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouragement, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously. If it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully” (Romans 12:6-8 NIV).

The boiling water represents the troubles of life. We’ve all been in hot water more times than we care to think about. Just like hot water draws out the flavor of the teabag, so the troubles of life draw out the flavor of our gift. The hotter, the better. Our trials make us more compassionate, more humble, and like the shadows in a painting, give us more depth. Our deepest pain and disappointment is often where God calls us to serve. Don’t waste the pain.

“[God] comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we have received from God” (2 Corinthians 1:4 NIV).

We are commanded to “encourage one another and build each other up” (1 Thessalonians 5:11) and to love one another. Love, after all, is greatest commandment. Want to get your mind off your problems? Help someone else.

Who in your world needs a cup of inspiration, a spoonful of encouragement, and a generous outpouring of the milk of God’s love?

Don’t hesitate. Get that teabag out.

Dear God, may the teabag You’ve given me flavor the teapot I find myself in. When my troubles make me want to spout off, help me to put a lid on it, let it brew, and then pour myself into the cup of another’s needs. Amen.

Special-Tea: 1 Peter 4:8–11

Towels and treasures

All the things I once thought were important are gone from my life . . . I gave up all that inferior stuff so I could know Christ personally. – Philippians 3:7,8 (The Message)

Philip was a man trapped inside a body that didn’t work right. His head twisted permanently to one side, nearly touching his shoulder. A white towel, used to wipe tears, mucous and saliva that dribbled down his face, rested on his other shoulder.

At 16 he’d given his life to God, vowing to do anything God wanted him to do.

“And He put me here,” Philip said, meaning the county home he’d lived in for 50 years.

He owned neither house nor car, and depended on others for his survival. His only possessions were the clothes on his back and his white towel.

Philip, however, was not to be pitied, but envied.

His face radiated happiness, and, in spite of his severe disabilities, his lips praised God. His tears were tears of thanksgiving because he believed that he was fulfilling his purpose in life. He didn’t lament what could have been. Instead he lived in joy born of gratitude and died in peace born of faith. His eyes perceived a different vision, for he “set his mind on things that are above, not on the things of the earth” (Colossians 3:2).

The glitter that is the world’s success fools many. We work hard for beautiful homes, the latest cars and all the toys. As long as everything is going our way, we enjoy a fragile happiness. Gratitude and joy come easily.

Can we still be grateful when our cupboards are bare, our bank accounts empty, our credits cards maxed out, and our retirement investments wiped out? Can we still be joyful when our health fails, our children rebel, our marriage crumbles and everything goes wrong?

The answer depends on what we determine is our purpose in life. Do we live to acquire possessions, prestige and power, or to know, love and serve God?

Philip chose the latter.

Today, the state of the economy leaves many in despair. Folks have lost their jobs, their homes and their dreams. Some, in desperation and hopelessness, have taken their lives and the lives of their families. How sad!

The apostle Paul had it all, too—possessions, prestige, power. But one profound encounter with God transformed him to the core and changed his perspective. What he once thought was important he now called “trash,” “garbage,” “rubbish, “worthless.”

By the world’s standards, Philip had nothing. Some might have even considered him a burden to society or a candidate for euthanasia.

But in the eyes of God, Philip had everything. He embraced the tragedy God allowed in his life and accepted it as his purpose on earth. He was thrilled to be used of God. Although his only earthly treasure was a towel, his heavenly treasures were overflowing.

Dear God, remind me of where my real treasures are. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read Philippians 3:7-11; Luke 12:22–34

God, Me & a Cup of Tea wins award

I can now call myself an award-winning columnist. I just received word that I received second place in the Pennsylvania Newspaper Association's annual Keystone Press Awards for my column, God, Me & a Cup of Tea. The Indiana Gazette, the newspaper that publishes my weekly column, submitted three columns that I wrote in 2008: "The Funny Hat Man," "Remembering Judi," and "Learning from Setbacks."

To read the Gazette article, click here.

For a list of the 2009 awards on the PNA page, click here.

Lips

The lips of the righteous nourish many. – Proverbs 10:21 (NIV)

Plump is in; thin is out. Lips, that is.

An ad on my Yahoo mail page touted the look of full lips. The lips on the model in the picture were so full, she looked as though she were having an allergic reaction.

Now, I’m not one to run out and buy every product that’s supposed to better my appearance and increase my sex appeal. Thirty-five years of marriage, three kids, five grandkids, and nearly six decades of life on this planet have pretty well taken care of that. I struggle enough with my appearance—the last thing I need is to look like I’ve just been shot up with Novocain.

But the ad got me thinking about lips—and their purpose.

Lips reveal our emotions: they kiss, smile, pout, frown and open to release laughter. The position of our lips affects the expression on our face. I can always tell when my husband is upset about something by the set of his lips—a thin, tightly pressed line. On the other hand, when his lips are smiling, his eyes are twinkling.

Lips are the gateway for food. Closed lips keep food and liquids in our mouths. “Chew with your mouth closed,” we tell our kids. Closed lips also keep things from going in. Good when you’re trying to lose weight, bad when you’re trying to administer a dose of medicine to a reluctant child.

Because of their nerve endings, lips stimulate the senses of taste and touch. When I want to check to see if my coffee is too hot, I use my lips. When my kids were little, I pressed my lips to their foreheads to see if they had a fever. My lips were more reliable than my work-weathered hands.

Lips also are vital for speech, enabling us to create sounds and form words. I’ve learned to cope with a lifelong hearing loss by watching people’s lips as they talk. When I can’t see their lips, it’s hard for me to understand what they’re saying. Hence the saying in the Huey household, “I can’t hear you—I don’t have my glasses on.”

Like anything else, we can use our lips for good or for evil. We can kiss someone or spit on them. Our lips can encourage or discourage—and affect our own feelings. A smile will not only brighten someone else’s day, but it will also boost your own spirits, Don’t believe me? Try it. A frown, on the other hand, has the opposite effect. A frown is the thundercloud of the face and the spirit.

The lips that praised Jesus when He rode into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday by the end of the week betrayed Him, denied Him, cursed Him and condemned Him. A kiss signified He was the one to arrest. Lips that boasted undying loyalty denied even knowing Him. Lips that shouted “Hosanna” on Sunday screamed “Crucify Him” on Friday.

I can use my lips to complain or praise, demolish or construct, poison or nourish, deny or confess, curse or bless, spit or kiss.

How do I use my lips? How do you use yours?

Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise—the fruit of lips that confess his name. – Hebrews 13:15 (NIV)

Dear God, may my lips be plump with praise. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read Luke 19