Gardening

223 posts in this category

Hard Is No Excuse

It’s spring and that means the tarps that have been protecting things for several months need to be laid out to dry, folded, and put up.  It’s spring and the plastic sheeting needs to be set up over the small, early, garden plot because we will have another frost or two.  It’s spring and that means the breezes are blowing and nothing will stay where you put it for any length of time at all.
            In late February Keith was out in the field laying out the tarps and plastic to dry in the sun, and trying to weigh down the corners with buckets and tools and anything else that came to hand.  He had managed three or four all by himself before dinner, and then I walked out with him afterward to see the freshly tilled garden and the early plot he had set out.  He bent to secure one corner of plastic just as the breeze increased and blew it right out of his hand.  I leaned down to help on my end only to have it, too, blown from my grasp.  He got hold of his corner as I chased mine around in a circle.  Finally we each had a corner and bent to secure them with handfuls of moisture-heavy garden dirt, only to have a particularly strong gust blow it free yet again.
            Three or four tries later we had the early plot covered and secured, the plastic stretched over a line three feet off the ground that ran down the middle to make a small greenhouse of sorts.  We were clothes-pinning the center where the “door” of our teepee met on either end.  Even that took a few tries followed by pinched faces and hunched shoulders waiting for the breeze to once again undo it all.  It held!
            “Whew!” he exclaimed.  “This kind takes prayer and fasting.” I looked at him with a rueful smile, and wondered how many prayers he must have prayed before I got there to help.
            You know, of course, that he was referring to Matt 17:21.  The disciples could not cast a demon out of a boy, but Jesus could.  For their lack of faith they received a stern rebuke, yet Jesus added that it was a particularly difficult demon to cast out.  Sometimes you will have to work harder than others, he seemed to mean by his comment about prayer and fasting.
            And occasionally overcoming a temptation is more difficult than at other times.  Sometimes it’s the circumstances.  If you are tired, or in pain, or grieving, or in any number of other situations, you may have a more difficult time passing the test.  Sometimes it’s the test itself.  Some things bother us more than others, pushing the buttons that most easily cause a reaction.  Sometimes it’s the “help.”  How many times has someone offered the advice to “calm down,” only to have that very advice cause the opposite reaction in spades?
            But notice this about that narrative in the gospels:  Jesus still expected those disciples to have mastered the demon and tossed it out.  Yes, it’s a hard one, he said, but you could have done it if you had enough faith.
            And so can we, if we are in the correct frame of mind.  There is always a way of escape.  It is never more than we can handle.  It doesn’t matter what the test is, what the circumstances are, or how many well- or even ill-meaning people get in the way. So here are a few suggestions that might help all of us.
            Know your hot buttons and avoid them.  How many times do the Proverbs call people fools who go blundering about their lives without even a thought where they might be headed?  How many other times are the “fools” the ones who go to difficult places with the arrogant notion they won’t be trapped like everyone else?
            If you cannot avoid these difficult situations, then prepare yourself before you get there.  If that means looking at yourself in the mirror and giving yourself a good talking to before you leave the house, then do it.  If it means praying before you leave—always a good idea—do it. 
            Then, don’t forget what you did the minute the door shuts behind you.  Nothing changes because your surroundings did.  If it means quoting scripture all the way through the situation itself, or singing hymns, do it.  Do whatever it takes.
            Don’t blame your failure on anyone else.  “I was doing fine until you came along and…” won’t change the bottom line.  You blew it.
            Do not give yourself an out of any kind.  “He deserved it [my tirade],” would cause you a lot of pain if it were said of you and God followed through on it—we all “deserve it” whatever “it” we might be talking about.  Don’t feel sorry for yourself because it was “hard.”  Do not ever excuse yourself if you failed.  You will never improve if you do.
          Know yourself.  Know what might take “prayer and fasting” to overcome.  God expects it of you, just as He did those apostles.  He expects you to succeed.  And you can.
 
Save yourself like a gazelle from the hand of the hunter, like a bird from the hand of the fowler. Prov 6:5
 
Dene Ward

A Different Shade of Green

“Those winter squash vines have grown a foot since that rain two days ago,” Keith mentioned as we drove into town one Tuesday morning.  “You can tell because the new growth is a different shade of green.”
            Indeed it is, I thought.  When spring comes, the new growth on the live oaks is a brighter shade I like to call “spring green.”  Even new growth on the roses is a different shade—a deep red.  New growth in plants is obvious.
            The New Testament is far too full of agricultural comparisons for me to pass this one by.  We are told ten times in the epistles to “grow” (auxano).  I may not be a Greek scholar, but I can run a program or look in a good, old-fashioned concordance for the same Greek word and where and how it’s used.  My question today is this:  is it just as obvious when we have new growth?  It ought to be.  So what will people see when I “grow” in this manner?
            2 Cor 9:10 tells me that the “fruits of my righteousness” will grow.  That certainly ought to be an obvious indicator.  If I am still struggling mightily, not just once in a while but constantly, to overcome the sins that held me captive before my conversion, then I am not growing as I ought to.  The time factor may be different for each one of us, but things should be improving.  I should become strong instead of fragile, someone who someday can help those who came from my identical circumstances.  If I cannot reach that point, something is amiss.
            Paul told the Colossians that their “knowledge” should be growing, 1:10.  When the same old chestnuts are tossed out in class, things that have been proven wrong by simple Bible study for years, I wonder if anyone is growing in knowledge.  Sitting on a pew will not do it.  It takes work, and it takes time.  It cannot be done in “14 minutes a day.”  I despair sometimes of the church ever reaching the point that it is once again known for its Bible knowledge as I see my Bible classes dwindling in number, and only frequented by older women.  When the new growth is only seen on the older vines, what does that say about our future?
            2 Cor 10:15 says my faith should be growing.  Do I show that with an ability to face trials in a more steady fashion than I used to?  Or do my words and actions, decrying God and questioning His love, show that I am no farther along than I was ten years ago?  Have I learned to accept His will and His ways, even when I do not understand them, or do I demand an explanation as if He were my child instead of the other way around?
            2 Pet 3:18 says we are to be growing in grace.  This one may be the most difficult one to assess, but think of this:  what does God’s grace excuse and pardon in you?  How patient was He when you were rebelling outright instead of just making ignorant and foolish mistakes? Now, how much grace do you grant to others who absent-mindedly get in your way, who have their own problems on their minds and are hardly aware of your presence?  Your neighbors, your colleagues, fellow shoppers, the driver in the car ahead of you—if you are not showing the grace of God to these in an obvious way you have not grown in grace as you should have.  If you are looking for a reason to sigh loudly, to complain, to blow that horn, instead of searching diligently for a way to offer grace as it was offered to you, you need to think again about your progress in the gospel.  I do too.
            All of us, no matter how long we have been Christians, should be showing growth.  In every area of our lives all of us should be sporting a different shade of green.
 
Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love. Eph 4:15-16
 
Dene Ward

If You Really Believe

We have always shared our garden produce.  We have never had a lot of disposable income, but every summer we have extra beans, peas, squash, cucumbers, corn, cantaloupes, okra, peppers, tomatoes, and melons.  Every trip into services includes handing out bag after bag after bag of whatever we are inundated with that week.
Once we gave a friend a bag of fordhooks.  Knowing she was a city girl, we did not do so without instructions.
            “You will need to shell them tonight, or if you must wait until tomorrow, then spread them out on newspapers.”
            A week or so later we asked her how she liked the beans.  Her red face and downcast eyes told the story before she said a word.
            “I left them in the bag overnight on the kitchen table and they soured and sprouted.  I’m so sorry.  I thought you were just exaggerating.”
            Yes, we still speak and are still good friends.  In fact, she is not the only one who has ignored our instructions and lost good produce as a result.  All these people help me understand a couple of verses in the book of Hebrews.
            And to whom swore he that they should not enter into his rest, but to them that were disobedient? And we see that they were not able to enter in because of unbelief. Heb 3:18-19
            In one verse, the Hebrew writer accuses the Israelites in the wilderness of disobedience and in the next of unbelief.  To him they were one and the same, and my disbelieving non-gardening friends prove the point.  When you do not believe what you are told, you will not do what you are told.
            Now granted, Keith and I are just ordinary people who might possibly be wrong, but you would think that forty years’ gardening experience would make us at least a little credible.
            And certainly God should have been credible to people who saw Him send the ten plagues, part the Red Sea, send water gushing out of a rock, and rain manna night after night.  But people always have an excuse if they do not want to obey.
            “It can’t be that important.”
            “God doesn’t care about such a little thing.”
            “God is merciful and loving.”
            “After all, I have done so many good things.  That ought to count more than this.”
            And so they deceive themselves into believing that the beans won’t spoil.  And their unbelief becomes disobedience, something God has never tolerated for an instant.
            Believe it!
 
For good news came to us just as to them, but the message they heard did not benefit them, because they were not united by faith with those who listened. Let us therefore strive to enter that rest, so that no one may fall by the same sort of disobedience. Heb 4:2,11
 
Dene Ward

Green Blackberries

“Mommy, those green blackberries burnt my mouth.”
            We were picking peas in a field behind a member’s farmhouse late one afternoon.  We had just moved to the area and had not had time to plant our own garden, so we were happy to do all the free U-picks our brethren offered.  Nathan, who was only 13 months old, was playing up at the house under the watchful care of the grandmotherly farmwife.  Three year old Lucas wanted to come “help,” so he trailed along behind us, picking a pea pod every so often, but usually exploring.
            It took a minute for what he had said to register.  Then, with a knot of fear growing in my stomach, I calmly asked, “What blackberries?  Show me.” 
            He led us back about twenty feet, to a place in the fencerow.  Instead of blackberry vines, we saw a four foot high green plant, with spade-shaped leaves and round green berries—nightshade.  We dropped our buckets, pulled the plant, scooped him up, and headed for the nearest emergency room, thirty miles east.  As soon as we arrived, Keith dropped me at the door.  I ran in and practically threw both Lucas and the plant on the registration desk. 
            “My baby ate this,” I managed between gasps.
            I had found the trick to immediate action in an emergency room.  They ran both him and the plant back behind the swinging doors.  I, of course, was taken to Paperwork Central—they never forget the documentation so they will be paid.  It probably did not help that I had come straight from the field, sweat, dirt, and all, and so did not look particularly solvent.
            Two hours later we left with a completely sobered three- year-old, promising us he would never eat green blackberries again.  As far as I know, he hasn’t!
            So why are we so much less careful about the poison that sickens our souls?  Spiritual nightshade surrounds us every day of our lives.  Somehow we think we are immune to its effects.  We go places we should not, associate with people we should not, dally with things that are as dangerous as a poisonous snake, and pooh-pooh anyone who dares tell us to be careful.
            I am not just talking about things like alcohol and sexual immorality.  Do you realize that wealth in the scriptures is never pictured as anything but dangerous to our souls?  But what do we wish for when the subject of wishes comes up?  And what do we always say?  “I could handle it.  I would never use it the wrong way.  It would never get the best of me.”  What do we tell our young people when they say the same things about drugs and alcohol? 
            Arrogance will always get the best of us in all these cases.  Might as well handle a cobra.  Might as well drink some cyanide. 
            Might as well eat a pie made of green blackberries.


For [the] rock [of the wicked] is not as our Rock...For their vine is of the vine of Sodom, and of the fields of Gomorrah; their grapes are grapes of gall, their clusters are bitter.  Their wine is the poison of serpents and the cruel venom of asps, Deut 32:31-33.

 

Dene Ward

A Green Thumb

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.
 People often tell me that I must have a green thumb, usually when I hand them a bag of excess produce from our garden. Well, I do admit to having grown up on an Ozark farm, having two sets of grandparents who were farmers, and parents, too, who gardened heavily. But, if a green thumb is a genetic trait, it seems to have skipped me.
            Our first garden was in the deep rich soil of central Illinois, a no-fail situation. But that and three years in the Piedmont of South Carolina did not prepare me for Florida. “You must not like tomatoes much,” the old Florida farmer said when he saw a dozen plants—all we’d ever needed to eat and to can in other places. Things just do not work the same in this Florida heat.  We learned that we had to plant nearly 100 tomatoes to get what we needed. That “green thumb” came from lots of weeding (or “grassing”) as hoes simply are useless here. Chop off the weed and it will grow back and the chopped part will root with all the rain and humidity. We weeded by hand and carried them out of the garden in buckets. I read books (nothing written north of the Georgia line is of much use), I talked to farmers and other gardeners, I observed commercial operations.
            I tried new ideas provoked by all of these. But, above all, I over-planted. I figured that in a bad year, we might still have enough for us; in an average year, or even in a good year, I never had a problem giving the excess away. Two different years after we thought we’d learned, we lost most all our tomatoes, once to a soil bacteria and once to too much rain. We planted corn in 3 or 4 different patches in hopes that one or more would produce well, and to spread out the harvest. Too much rain burst tomatoes and watermelons and washed the flavor from cantaloupes. The soil here has no nutrients, fertilize and then fertilize again and again, or harvest puny crops.  We moved the garden spot about 100 yards and had to learn over for we went from a too wet soil to a garden that is wilting two days after an inch of rain. I  seriously considered getting a mule to help me drag hose, I was watering so much.
            That “green thumb” people attribute so casually sure came with a lot of mistakes and sweat. Probably anyone who will put in the labor and the persistence to learn can have a green thumb.
           “I wish I had your Bible knowledge,” people sometimes say. Most of them could. It came exactly the same way the “green thumb” came. Study and skull sweat. Outlining sermons and Bible classes in my head while weeding that garden or splitting firewood. Teaching and having someone take me aside and explain the Word more perfectly. Researching and writing articles carefully so they would not bite me 20 years later (Pay heed those of you who are quick to post on fb).
            I try to give it away but they say, “Your classes are too deep,” those who have been on the pew for decades. I go to the prison and inmates who never heard Jesus except as a curse hear the same teaching gladly.
          The green thumb came because it was grow it or be hungry. Maybe if people understood, really understood, not just the “right answer” kind of understanding they give in church,  that Bible knowledge is more critical than eating, they could learn too.

Work not for the food that perishes…..
I am the bread of life…..

As newborn babes long, you long….
 Keith Ward

 

A Half-Rotten Tomato

Canning tomatoes is one of the more difficult garden season chores.  You wash each and every tomato.  You scald each and every tomato.  You pound ice blocks till your arms ache in order to shock and cool each and every scalded tomato.  You peel each and every tomato and finally you cut up each and every tomato.  How many?  In the old days about 5 five gallon buckets full, enough to make 40+ quarts.  Then you sterilize jars, pack jars, and process jars.  Only 7 jars fit in the canner at a time, so you go through that at least 6 times.
            And you will have more failures to seal with canned tomatoes than any other thing you can.  As you pack them in, pushing down to make room, you must be very careful not to let the juice spill over into the threads of the jar.  And just in case you did that heinous crime, you take a damp cloth and wipe each thread of each jar.  Tomato pulp will keep a perfectly good jar, lid, and ring from sealing.
            In order to have that many tomatoes you must be willing to cut up a few that are half-rotten, disposing of the soft, pulpy, stinky parts—and boy, howdy, can they stink!—in order to save sometimes just a bite or two of tomato.  Now that there are only two of us, I usually limit myself to 20 + quarts.  I still put one in every pot of spaghetti sauce, one in every pot of chili, and one in every pot of minestrone, as well as a few other recipes, it’s just that I don’t make as many of those things as I did with two big boys in the house.  Now I can afford to be a little profligate.  If I pick up a tomato with a large bad spot, I am just as likely to toss the whole thing rather than try to save the bite or two that is good, especially if it is a small tomato to begin with.  Why go to all that work—washing, scalding, shocking, peeling, cutting up, packing—for a mere teaspoon of tomato?
            But isn’t that what God and Jesus did for us?  For narrow is the gate, and straitened the way, that leads unto life, and few are they that find it. Matt 7:14.
            The Son of God, the Lord of Lords, the King of Kings, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Phil 2:6-8.  And he did that for a half—no!--for a more than half rotten tomato of a world.  He did that to save a remnant, a mere teaspoon of souls who would care enough to listen and obey the call. 
Sometimes, by the end of the day, when my arms are aching, my fingers are nicked and the cuts burning from acidic tomato juice, my back and feet are killing me from standing for hours, and I am drenched with sweat from the steamy kitchen, I am ready to toss even the mostly good tomatoes, the ones with only a tiny bad spot, because it means extra work beyond a quick slice or two.  Aren’t you glad God did not feel that way about us?  It wasn’t just a half rotten world he came to save, it was a bunch of half rotten individuals in that world, of which you and I are just a few.
 But what is God's reply to him? “I have kept for myself seven thousand men who have not bowed the knee to Baal.” So too at the present time there is a remnant, chosen by grace. Rom 11:4-5

Dene Ward

Dandelion Puffs

I loved to do it when I was a child—pick the stem of a dandelion and blow those puffballs everywhere.  Give my parents credit, they never told me to stop.  I had no idea I was spreading a weed around that most people wanted nothing to do with.  Once we became gardeners I knew why, and shuddered at my childhood hobby.
            Have you ever tried to pull up one of those things?  Most times it will break off, leaving the root in the ground, ready to sprout another yellow bloom, followed by the white seed head, which is called a capitulum, by the way, which is made up of cypselae, which are then carried off by the parachute-like objects called calyx tissue.  I bet that's more than you ever wanted to know about dandelions.  But there are worse things to know.
            First, the reason you cannot just pull up a dandelion is that long, thick, white, carrot-like (or more appropriately it seems to me, parsnip-like) taproot, sometimes as long as two to three feet.  The tissue at the top of the root is tender, so as you grab a handful of the weed and pull, it will quite easily break at ground level.  The plant will then grow back as vigorous as ever, leaving you with nothing to show for your work but a handful of dandelion greens.
            And then there is this second thing, which we only just learned this spring.  We planted a patch of wildflowers three years ago with seed we ordered from a well-reviewed company.  The first year we had scads of cosmos and I think I figured out why the second year.  The cosmos were almost the only things that came up and bloomed that first year.  Just a few coreopsis and rudbeckia showed their little heads, as well as a small scattering of gaillardia.  Really, if it had not been for the cosmos, we would have considered the seed a complete waste of money.  But the next year we saw no cosmos at all.   Instead, we had red phlox early on, and then the coreopsis, rudbeckia, and gaillardia boomed.  I think that cosmos was just to make sure we had something come up and bloom the first year. 
            However, we now have some dandelion interlopers.  Keith went around with a trowel digging those things up before the puffball could appear.  And here is what we found out:  two or three days later, the blooms, which had been lying in the sub-tropical sun with no roots in the ground at all, had still managed to produce seed heads, and there those puffballs lay on the ground, just waiting to dig their way into our flower patch!  It was impossible to pick them up without spreading them everywhere.  The least little breeze and they were all over the place.  All that digging and pulling he had done had been for nothing.  Next year he will carry a bucket with him and deposit them in it so they can be discarded far away from our wildflower plot!
            Have you ever heard about young men who have to "sow their wild oats" before they mature and become responsible adults?  If you are either a farmer or a gardener, you understand the fallacy in that philosophy.  Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap (Gal 6:7).  Yes, I have known some young men who did indeed turn out all right.  That was only because someone else did some heavy duty planting before they went off sowing those oats. 
            But even if they do come back to their senses, all those wild oat seeds will eventually come back to haunt them.  As I have seen, those who plow iniquity and sow trouble reap the same (Job 4:8).
          Just like those dandelion blooms still managed to make seed heads, your sins will work that way as well.  Whenever you take part in some sinful pleasure, having known that pleasure will make it much more tempting.  Once you have gotten used to bad language, those words will forever be on the tip of your tongue when a crisis arises.  And all those bad habits will be not only hard to break, but even harder to keep broken.   And all because you thought pulling a dandelion up, even by the root, would kill it.
            Make it easier on yourself.  Don't even plant them.
 
For they sow the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind…​Sow for yourselves righteousness; reap steadfast love; break up your fallow ground, for it is the time to seek the LORD, that he may come and rain righteousness upon you. (Hos 8:7; 10:12).
 
Dene Ward
 

Cutworms

Cutworms are ugly, fat, brown worms that can wreak havoc overnight in a garden.  They rise to the surface, wrap themselves around the tender stems of new plants, and cut them off at ground level.  In the morning you find plant after plant, cut off and lying on the ground, shriveling in the new dawn.
            Gardeners espouse various cures for cutworms.  Some place plastic or foil collars around the stems from just above ground level to several inches below.  Others insert nails, Popsicle sticks or toothpicks in the ground, one on either side of each stem.  We generally just pick up a pile of twigs from the yard and poke them down next to the stems.  All these cures work because they keep the worms from being able to surround the stem and cut it down.  At least with our way, you don’t have to walk the garden removing things that either won’t degrade or might be dangerous.  Just ask my son Nathan about toothpicks and bare feet.
            These cures work for souls as well.  People who face the trials and cares of life alone, without any support or encouragement, might as well have Satan wrap them up in his arms.  They are that vulnerable.  As vigilant soldiers of Christ we should be on the lookout during times when we find ourselves alone.  Are you the only one at school who even claims to be a Christian?  The only one at work?  The only one in your neighborhood?  Make sure you are not too proud to recognize moments of weakness and ask someone for help.  Be willing to seek companionship when you need it.  In fact, be willing to run for it!
            And to those who are never alone, who are blessed enough to have a Christian mate or to work in a Christian atmosphere, pay attention to those around you who are not.  Find the singles, the widows, the ones who have been left by unfaithful spouses, and be the someone who stands next to her so the devil cannot wrap her up and cut her down.  We are too often so involved in our own families that we do not look for or make time for the lonely souls who need us.  They are always the “fifth wheel,” not a couple, and so they are ignored because they don’t fit in.  It is our job to fit them in.
            Look around you today and find a loner.  Don’t let anyone lose his soul because you didn’t even think to wrap him up in your encouraging arms and let him know that he is not alone.
 
Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow.  But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him -- a threefold cord is not quickly broken, Eccl 4:9-12.
 
Dene Ward

Stinkbugs

I began by keeping three or four potted herbs on my steps for several years. That gradually evolved into a separate, full-blown herb garden—two kinds of parsley, three kinds of basil, plus thyme, oregano, marjoram, dill, sage, cilantro, rosemary, fennel, mint, and chives. 
            I’m still learning some things the hard way.  Dill must be planted in the fall because it cannot tolerate the heat of a Florida summer.  Basil will stop growing when the weather cools, whether you protect it from the frost or not.  Oregano is a ground runner and needs a lot of room.  You must snip your chives from the bottom—not just trim off the tops—if you expect them to replenish.  One recipe for pesto will decimate a basil plant for at least two weeks.  Always give mint its own separate bed, or better still, pot, because it will take over the joint if you don’t. 
            And, Keith hates cilantro.  Although I am not exactly sure how he knows this, he says it tastes “like stinkbugs.”  We discovered this when I sprinkled chopped fresh cilantro over a turkey tortilla casserole.  Now cilantro does have a distinctive flavor.  While it bears a close physical resemblance to Italian flat-leaf parsley, the strongest flavored parsley, its flavor is probably ten times stronger than that herb. There IS such a thing as too much cilantro.  On the other hand, a lot of people like it in moderation, including me.  I guess there is no accounting for tastes.
            And that is why some people reject Jesus.  To some people life tastes sweeter when we do things His way.  The difficult times become easier to bear, and the good times more than we dared hope for.  But other people see in Him a restrictive cage denying them all the pleasures of life.  Their focus on the here and now keeps them from seeing the victory of Eternity, but even worse, they are blinded by Satan to the true joys a child of God can have in this life as well.  …And exercise yourself unto godliness; for bodily exercise is profitable for a little, but godliness is profitable for all things, having the promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come. 1 Tim 4:7,8.  We can have joy, peace, hope, love, and fellowship with both God and the best people on earth, while on this earth. 
            But they just can’t see it.  I guess to them, godliness tastes like stinkbugs.  Truly, there is just no accounting for tastes.
 
For we are a sweet smell of Christ unto God, in them that are saved, and in them that perish; to the one a smell from death unto death, and to the other a smell from life unto life…2 Cor 2:15,16
 
Dene Ward

Sycamore Figs

Then Amos answered and said to Amaziah, “I was no prophet, nor a prophet's son, but I was a herdsman and a dresser of sycamore figs, Amos 7:14.
            Amaziah, the [false] priest at Bethel had just told Amos to go back to Judah.  They were tired of his scare tactics, what they viewed as rebellion against their king, Jeroboam II.  That is how we learn of Amos’s occupation.  While some view him as the owner of the sheep rather than the shepherd who actually slept outdoors watching his flock, you cannot get away from the humble position of fig picker.
            Sycamore figs (also spelled sycomore figs) were not the figs of the upper classes, but a smaller fruit, slightly sweet, watery, and a little woody.  This is what the poor people ate.  The only way a sycamore fig would ripen was for someone to pinch it, causing it to bruise.  About four days later it was fit to pick and eat.  Can you imagine anything much more tedious than pinching every single fruit on every single tree in an orchard?  Then going to the next orchard and doing it all again?  And again?
            As I was pondering this in our Tuesday morning class, I suddenly thought, “And isn’t that what happens to us?”  The only way for us to ripen as a disciple of our Lord is to be bruised.  In my ever increasing number of years, I have seen only those who reach their lowest point realize their need for God.  If I am proud, smug, self-reliant, self-righteous, all too sure of my own knowledge, I will never be able to prostrate myself before an Almighty Creator and commit my life, my belongings, MYSELF to Him.  I will never be able to take up the cross of self-denial and self-sacrifice and serve my Savior and my neighbor. 
            Some people have a stronger spiritual sense and can recognize their need for salvation quickly.  Their bruising is a bruising of the spirit that occurs when they recognize their sin and remorse hits them like that proverbial ton of bricks.  Others need a physical bruising.  You see it often when tragedy strikes—a serious illness, a devastating accident, the loss of a loved one.  A bruising in this physical life may be necessary for them to see the need in their spiritual lives.  I have often heard it said by preachers that the best time to reach your neighbor is in a time of tragedy, and the scriptures bear that out as well.
            Isaiah preached imminent destruction.  In the latter chapters of his book he tells those impenitent people that God will be waiting to take them back—not before the calamity, but afterward—after they have been bruised by a physical destruction the like of which they had never seen before.  That, after all, would be the time when they would finally listen.
            For thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: “I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite. ​For I will not contend forever, nor will I always be angry; for the spirit would grow faint before me, and the breath of life that I made. Because of the iniquity of his unjust gain I was angry, I struck him; I hid my face and was angry, but he went on backsliding in the way of his own heart. I have seen his ways, but I will heal him; I will lead him and restore comfort to him and his mourners, ​creating the fruit of the lips. Peace, peace, to the far and to the near,” says the LORD, “and I will heal him. Isa 57:15-19.
            Ezekiel says much the same:  I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I myself will make them lie down, declares the Lord GOD. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, and the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them in justice,  Ezek 34:15-16.
            And who does Jesus offer His invitation to:  Come all you who are weary and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart and you shall find rest for your souls, Matt 11:28,29.
            And so each of us must face our bruising.  The more quickly we yield, the easier that bruising will be, not because trials will cease, but because our humble hearts will accept both them and the help we will have to face them.  We won’t be alone any longer, a state of affairs that only comes to the stubborn, who refuse to surrender to Divine love and protection.  Sometimes it takes a “fig-pincher” to help with the process, someone who, like the prophet Nathan, can stand before us and proclaim, “Thou art the man.”  And like the sycamore fig, we will ripen into the fruitful child of God each of us has the potential to become.
 
He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint, Isa 40:29-31.
 
Dene Ward