The Kitchen happily spends the spring and summer planting, watering, weeding, eating, canning, delighting, relaxing, and maybe even sweating in the garden. Why all that time spent in one place? Easy! I like to eat. I like to wander into my garden for summer eats and I like to wander into my garden for cold weather eats. I call it eating from the ground up. This week’s from the ground up eats was fresh garden vegetable beef soup.
No. I did not raise my own beef. I would be happy to raise my own beef but my neighbors would not appreciate my steer wandering the neighborhood in search of pasture. My neighbors don’t seem to mind a barefooted old woman wandering about in her little backyard planting, watering, pruning, snacking, and giggling over the many surprises popping out of the dirt. I don’t think they notice me. They are busy doing other stuff.
But God notices me in my garden, and I notice God in my early morning garden strolls. There is something about this quiet time outside. I often think of these moments happening only in the summer but God does not go on vacation just because the sky turns gray and the ground cools. No. He is still present. He still supplies. He reminded me of His presence this week. The garden is not about me. It is not about my great work. It is about my Father.
It all started with my hankering for vegetable beef soup made from Sunday after church leftover roast beef. I knew from my Ma to cook up the bones for broth and bits of meat. I knew to scoop up the green beans and corn to serve as leftovers. After all, I worked hard all summer long growing and canning my veggies. Why throw away the leftovers? But what does this have to do with food, my little garden, and my Father?
My soup was almost complete with a tomato base I made from garden veggies, garlic plucked from my backyard, my own onion added to my leftover green beans and corn. I dug through my refrigerator and found a random little jar of dried beans from end of season harvest but my soup was still missing something. That is when Papa met me, yet again, to shower His goodness upon me. More importantly, He showed me that it is not all about me and what I do.
I wandered into my backyard to bury some kitchen scraps when what to my digging hands should appear but a big, beautiful, golden potato. Jackpot! My soup needs a potato or two. Papa surprised me. But wait! There is more. Yep! I missed a little carrot patch. My soup needed carrots. Papa knew. Papa supplied. Papa also supplied flourishing herbs to season my soup and the prettiest little surprise lily just to say, “I love you, My Child.”
He owes me nothing. There is nothing ‘unfair’ about me not getting what I think I want. There is an abundance of His grace when He gives me that which I did not even ask for. He loves me. He delights in showing His kindness to His children. Maybe He finds even greater delight in His children acknowledging His kindness and responding with gratitude. That is the delight of the garden no matter the season. I meet my Father in my humble little garden.
I am grateful for His abundance as I eat my little bowl of soup made from the ground up.
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