Sow in Hope

As springtime creeps in shyly and maybe furtively into the Gulf Coast Region, azaleas bloom, and flowering grasses creep up from the ground. Garden Centers open with plants outstretched like bait hanging from racks and spread out on the sidewalks in front of the store. The siren song of life and beauty calls, "Buy me! Plant me!"

I quite often do. Sometimes I buy vegetables, sometimes bedding plants. This year it was a hanging basket that reminded me of my grandmother. She always had this type of plant, a spider plant, whose tendrils fall from the mother plant with baby sprouts searching for soil so that they, too, can thrive and bring life.

Grandmama loved working with flowers and plants. Her house's back and front porches were covered in flower pots and surrounded by hanging baskets. She caught rainwater specifically to water the plants because she said it was better for them than the pump water we drank.

A door on the front porch led to what we called the flower house. It was a small room with shelves on one side and two big windows on the other. On the inside of the windows was nailed an opaque plastic that let sunlight in but helped keep out the cold that would seep through the unsealed panes. During the cold months, her plants would be taken there for shelter to keep them from the frosts. But because she had so many, there were also plants taken into the living room, kitchen, and dining room. Plants were everywhere. Did I mention that I have a hanging basket?

When my parents were married over fifty years ago, one of the centerpiece flowers was a potted hydrangea. After the wedding, Grandmama took it home and planted it. By the time I could remember her yard, six large hydrangea bushes spread in front of that front porch, three to each side of the concrete steps.

When my parents moved to the house my Dad is in now, Mama brought cuttings of those flowers. And now, hydrangea bushes spread across the front of their house.

I haven't tried to transplant any to my yard. I'm afraid I will kill them. See, Mama got Grandmama's gift of gardening. I did not. While I loved to help water the plants, stand in the flower house's warmth, and even help in the flowerbeds, I am flower lazy. I go through times of underwatering and overwatering my plants because I don't make it a priority. And I think weeds should not grow in the beds because they know better. Nope. Not a gardener.

But you know who is? God. Yep. He was clearly the first gardener. You know all about the Garden of Eden. And, I'm certain you, like I, have marveled at how He created everything with His words. His words are powerful and full of life and creation. He said, "Let there be light," and there was. He spoke the universe into existence in six days. But when it came time to create a home for his children, Adam and Eve, God didn't use His words.

He didn't say, "Let there be a garden" or even, "Let there be man." Instead, He got personal.

Here are a couple of scriptures in Genesis 2 building up to our focus:

5 Now no shrub of the field had yet appeared on the earth, nor had any plant of the field sprouted; for the LORD God had not yet sent rain upon the earth, and there was no man to cultivate the ground. 6 But springs welled up from the earth and watered the whole surface of the ground.

So the land was ready, But there were no plants yet -- for two reasons. One was that there was no rain, and one was that there was no man to cultivate the ground. God prepared the springs to water it, and now He was about to prepare the man to tend it. And he created him with particular consideration. God created humans with meticulous care, even more than that of the planets and stars that twinkle and shine and take our breath.

7 Then the LORD God formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed the breath of life into his nostrils, and the man became a living being.

So God formed Adam and then breathed into him. How gently He must have done that. The breath that spoke the universe into existence, that creates powerful hurricanes and tornadoes, was breathed into Adam's nostrils.

Then God made a home for Adam, and again, He didn't speak it into existence.

8 And the LORD God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, where He placed the man He had formed.

God planted this garden. Again, this implies that He took time and care with creating the plants and their colors, shapes, tastes, and nutrition. And He arranged it in a garden for Adam, but that's not where His tender care ended. God told Jeremiah that He created him in his mother's womb (1:5). That tells me that God didn't stop putting individual care into human creation.

He, our Creator God, breathed life into our nostrils. Be encouraged in this. God loves you so much that He made you an individual. You are unique in your personality, DNA, fingerprints, and even that freckle that drives you crazy.

He creates detailed plans for you, too. He knows when you need friends to enrich you, encouragement to water you, and wisdom to enlighten you. He is a good Gardener, and He wants you to thrive.

Meanwhile, with green shoots and budding blossoms emerging from their winter slumber, entreating people like me to plant and grow, one of my friends bought me an artificial plant. I wonder how often I should water it?