Generosity

We got some more beans shelled.  Two of these beans I planted as soup beans, the red ones and the multi-colored ones.  The white ones are green beans that we let go after we'd gotten all the green beans we wanted (and it was hot and we didn't want to go out any more).  The black beans are a complete surprise.  At first I thought maybe a stray seed had gotten planted, but we are finding quite a lot of them.  They say you should keep good garden records.  One reason, I think, is that you don't look so foolish when mysteries like this appear.

Yesterday we visited a family who has been an inspiration to us.  Our first visit was in the dark of late winter and a dense fog had fallen over the area.  It was the first time we'd ever talked with real people who had a family milk cow, and it was our first experience milking.  They had started from scratch just like us.  We were expecting comments that it was tough but worth it.  Instead, they were wildly enthusiastic... about their milk and their life.  Even the daily milking was no big deal.  "Every day you brush your teeth, you milk the cow, it's no big deal."  And these people are homeschooling their ten children.  If they thought it was no big deal, then it would certainly be okay for us.  We left that day feeling so empowered and excited to start our own adventure.  The fog gave the whole experience a mystical quality.

When Christina arrived, it was these friends who got us through those early weeks, coming to our house to teach us how to milk, comforting us through the emotions of such a steep learning curve, and sharing lots of wisdom.

They have just gone through their second calving and we went to see the calf.  Again our nervousness was put to rest with their experience and enthusiasm.   We came home with two gallons of fresh milk.  Such a treat!!  They also sent boxes of apples and onions they had gleaned.  They live in a agricultural area and are well plugged into the gleaning network.

One of the "signs" God gives us in discernment is that opportunities open up.  When God wants you to move in a direction, the doors seem to open, often unexpectedly.  This family has been like that for us.  Out of the blue we found a large family, interested in the same lifestyle as us, but walking the path about a year ahead.  What a gift!  Their generous spirit of sharing wisdom, encouragement, and food, resonates with the generosity of God and inspires us to look around for those who need our wisdom, encouragement, and food.

Those grains of wheat we tossed around only ten days ago have been energized by our Creator God!  The whole area is covered by these sturdy-looking little grasses, over two inches tall already.  I am amazed!  Then I think, why am I so amazed at grass?  But it's wheat!  My response reveals how far removed I have been all my life from my food, that something as simple as growing a grass that produces a grain head feels like such astounded magic.  Regardless, it is good to feel so close to God.

Unexpected Water

This desert land where we live is fruitful only when irrigated.  It parches by July without water. The old system of canals and ditches delivers water flowing downhill, seeping deeply into the soil and making plants strong.  It’s a great system when the land is flat and graded.  Ours isn’t.  For us, irrigation is an all-day project of coaxing the water to flow over the garden, pasture, and lawn before the time is up. We often don’t get everything done before it’s gone.  We always wish for more.  Today a full load of unscheduled water arrived.

We opened up the values to the garden, happy for the extra moisture.  The garden was watered and there was still more.  We put it on the pasture.  Pasture was watered and there was still more.  Today it’s flowing into the lawn and around to the fruit bushes. 

We weren’t planning on this water so it feels like a surprise present.  The land needs it, which means we need it.  But it messed up my schedule.  I was going to mow the lawn and do some harvesting.  Now we have to wait for everything to dry out.

God does the same thing to me.  God flows into my life with a full head, pushing over obstacles, hydrating everything, and messing up my schedule.  God usually arrives just as I thought God was farthest away and pretty soon I’m doing all kinds of things I didn’t plan on — like coming to this land and raising our food...or speaking in front of crowds...or writing a book...or blogging. 

I didn’t intend to start this crazy life of intimacy with the land.  It came to me.  This land and house were an inheritance from my husband’s parents.  It was unearned and honestly unwanted — unwanted until we started loving it. Now I have a fondness for this land that is tied to my love for my in-laws and my love for my children.  This land embraces us, like a sanctuary of thick chili, pie and ice cream.

We planted soup beans for the first time this year.  Today we picked the dry pods and began shelling.  Half an hour later we had a small bowl to show for our efforts.  I think about the huge bag I bought for $10 and an old stab of conscience pricks me.  How can people raise food, sell it for so little, and get by themselves?  I've known all my life that farmworkers really don't get by.

The cool weather made chili seem like a good idea for dinner (here's how we do chili).  I’ll make a big pot, enough for several days.  My nine-year-old asked to help while I was sorting beans and I said no, wanting to get it done and move on.  Then I remembered a story my friend Carol told about prayer.  She says that God puts prayers in our hearts for good things God was going to do anyway, and therefore lets us enjoy the dignity and satisfaction of being part of something good.  My daughter wanted to be part of feeding her family, so I called her back, and even though it took longer, gave her a little taste of the satisfaction of feeding others.  Today I prayed for God to heal several friends who have had surgery.  They will probably all get better, regardless of my prayers, but I feel that in some way my love has helped them.