I planted a vegetable garden this year -- a back row of giant sunflowers, a couple of rows of carrots, watermelon, tomatoes, and peas. Watching this garden grow has been nothing shy of watching daily miracles. The pea plants in particular have captivated my attention. What started out as tiny, hard seeds that looked like shriveled up peas have turned into intelligent plants!
Peas are to be planted in a double row six inches apart. While I did not understand the rationale for this in the planting process, I definitely understand the need now. The plant grows “tentacle” vines that reach out and hold on to other pea plants (and sunflower stems) to support the branches. The pea plant literally reaches out to its neighbor both in need of help as well offering itself to the other plants to accommodate their needs.
There are many lessons I have to learn from this intelligent plant. First is a lesson in faith and creation. From dirt and a small green ball has come the miracle of plant life. From the first leaves breaking through the soil to the vines reaching out for support to the flowers developing into peapods – each phase is nothing short of miraculous. It takes faith to believe that placing a worthless seed in some dirt will produce something of great worth. Okay, so it is not gold or silver, but my kids love to eat peas and I cannot wait to let them eat fresh peas from our very own garden that they helped plant. The participation in creating something good is priceless.
The second lesson is yet another reminder to pay attention to the small details. Everyday something new and exciting is happening to the pea plants. Yesterday the first pod emerged! Miracles are not always grand spectacles like the parting of the Red Sea. We may miss the quiet whisper of God by awaiting the loud thunder. Likewise, we may miss many miracles through our own inability to notice the delicate details. A seed feeling the dirt and somehow knowing it is time to start sprouting branches and leaves. And then, through the darkness of the soil, the plant somehow knows how to find its way to the light where it can be nourished and grow and nourish others. Do we notice that if it were not for bees pollinating the flower we would have no vegetables to eat? Nature is full of tiny God-whispers. May I have ears to hear and eyes to notice!
Finally, the peas have taught me a lot about community and vulnerability. They are planted in such a way to help one another. A pea plant could not survive in isolation for it would fall over, be trampled, and the pods would be unable to grow. The pea plant literally reaches out trusting its neighbor will be there to support it. To quote Simon and Garfunkel, “I am a Rock. I am an Island. For a Rock feels no pain. And an Island never cries.” While isolation may protect us from heartache and tears, it also robs us from being known and ultimately from knowing ourselves. Alone we only see aspects of ourselves we want to see and we easily blind ourselves from harsh realities. But in community, people become the mirrors in which we see ourselves. Within relationship, we can be noticed, and our own small miracles appreciated. When we are exposed and made vulnerable, we can also be pruned and weeded in order for our growth to become more fruitful.
By reaching out to others, we have the privilege of being witness to their stories and small miracles. We have the opportunity to be forever changed through the touch of another’s life. May I grow to appreciate the other and their influence on my life!
Peas are to be planted in a double row six inches apart. While I did not understand the rationale for this in the planting process, I definitely understand the need now. The plant grows “tentacle” vines that reach out and hold on to other pea plants (and sunflower stems) to support the branches. The pea plant literally reaches out to its neighbor both in need of help as well offering itself to the other plants to accommodate their needs.
There are many lessons I have to learn from this intelligent plant. First is a lesson in faith and creation. From dirt and a small green ball has come the miracle of plant life. From the first leaves breaking through the soil to the vines reaching out for support to the flowers developing into peapods – each phase is nothing short of miraculous. It takes faith to believe that placing a worthless seed in some dirt will produce something of great worth. Okay, so it is not gold or silver, but my kids love to eat peas and I cannot wait to let them eat fresh peas from our very own garden that they helped plant. The participation in creating something good is priceless.
The second lesson is yet another reminder to pay attention to the small details. Everyday something new and exciting is happening to the pea plants. Yesterday the first pod emerged! Miracles are not always grand spectacles like the parting of the Red Sea. We may miss the quiet whisper of God by awaiting the loud thunder. Likewise, we may miss many miracles through our own inability to notice the delicate details. A seed feeling the dirt and somehow knowing it is time to start sprouting branches and leaves. And then, through the darkness of the soil, the plant somehow knows how to find its way to the light where it can be nourished and grow and nourish others. Do we notice that if it were not for bees pollinating the flower we would have no vegetables to eat? Nature is full of tiny God-whispers. May I have ears to hear and eyes to notice!
Finally, the peas have taught me a lot about community and vulnerability. They are planted in such a way to help one another. A pea plant could not survive in isolation for it would fall over, be trampled, and the pods would be unable to grow. The pea plant literally reaches out trusting its neighbor will be there to support it. To quote Simon and Garfunkel, “I am a Rock. I am an Island. For a Rock feels no pain. And an Island never cries.” While isolation may protect us from heartache and tears, it also robs us from being known and ultimately from knowing ourselves. Alone we only see aspects of ourselves we want to see and we easily blind ourselves from harsh realities. But in community, people become the mirrors in which we see ourselves. Within relationship, we can be noticed, and our own small miracles appreciated. When we are exposed and made vulnerable, we can also be pruned and weeded in order for our growth to become more fruitful.
By reaching out to others, we have the privilege of being witness to their stories and small miracles. We have the opportunity to be forever changed through the touch of another’s life. May I grow to appreciate the other and their influence on my life!
