We’re currently reaping the last bits of this years garden and prepping our yard and chickens for the colder months. It’s making me think about how God allows us to experience seasons and cycles of life. Seasons of planting and watering, of harvesting and abundance, seasons of warmth and frigid cold, regrowth and pruning and cycles of life and death. And how every season is truly necessary for the next and upcoming season to emerge.
Something has to die in order for new life to grow. Isn’t that the simplest version of the Gospel? Christ’s death brought about abundant life for us. It teaches us how sacrifice always lead to growth, surrendering leads to freedom. And when things decay or wilt or even die, lovely things are still possible.
This year our garden was less than grand, we honestly didn’t produce much of a harvest, but the growth I had as a somewhat newbie gardener was enough for me to try again and prep for next spring. I learned how much water is too much water (it rained a ton this season which resulted in overgrowth and non-existing vegetables), what to actually do when there is too much rain, I learned how to protect plants from predators, how to space seeds properly to prevent a hinderance of growth, I learned more about soil and sunshine, pruning and bugs, and I taught my kids what I was learning along the way.
And as a newbie chicken mama, I learned how to nurture, tend to and surrender the little lives God has made us responsible for. Earlier in the summer, when we first began leaving our chickens outside overnight, I was struck with fear. I remember going to bed the first night anxious, mostly about the weather, it was somewhat stormy and my fear was the chickens couldn’t handle the changing weather (honestly a rational fear, but I was completely irrational about it). Alexander gave his typical practical advice and in the morning, to my surprise, the chickens weren’t even phased by the previous nights storm. However, the following evening it was raining again. More fear. But this time I surrendered, I literally prayed the words, “God, these are your chickens.” Words I never thought would run through my mind and heart, but I was at peace. I slept well and was still lingering on the word peace when I awoke the next morning.
After breakfast we were on our way outside for our usual summer morning walk, and as I went out to check on the chickens I instantly noticed the one. The one stiff in the corner, with it’s head gone, and feathers plucked on one side.
My eyes grew wide and I told the kids to get their dad. As Alexander was coming outside I sighed and under my breath I said, “LORD, what! I surrendered.” We quickly realized a smallish animal dug a huge hole on two sides of the coop, somehow stuck its paw into the small openings of the wire, pinned the chicken to the bottom of the coop, bit off it’s head and carried on, probably proud and with a full tummy. Alexander threw the chicken across the street (it’s a forested area where all our neighbors pile lawn clippings, rotten crab apples, etc) and we went for our normal walk. And while we were walking I told Alexander about how I surrendered our chickens the night before, and we honestly started laughing pretty hard.
And as days and weeks passed, I kept telling friends what had happened. There were squeamish faces mixed with lots of laughs, and a wise friend replied back, “Well, God was also like, ‘that fox is mine too’.”
Seasons and cycles of life. They’re inevitable. They’re wonderful and at the same time, hard to endure.
To watch hard work seemingly go to waste is weakening and disappointing but to remember that God cares so deeply about our character is what has made me continue to reap benefits of this lifestyle. Jesus’ words recorded in Luke 12:22-34 are rolling through my mind as I’m wrapping up this post, so let us end by meditating on God’s word and promises:
“And [Jesus] said to his disciples, ‘Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you.
“Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.'”