I hope this story, my story \u201cGardening With God\u201d blesses you.<\/p>\n
Gardening With God<\/strong><\/p>\n I\u2019m lying on my living room floor.\u00a0 Not ugly crying<\/a>.\u00a0 Not cussing while I pray<\/a>.\u00a0 Not getting my steep on.<\/a>\u00a0 Just lying there.\u00a0 Still. Empty. Done. Bitter.\u00a0\u00a0 I\u2019m lying on the floor, drifting between sleep and angry prayers when I hear movement on my back porch.\u00a0 Curiously, I hear a man humming and the swish of soil as He moves it around to make room for new blooms.<\/p>\n I drag myself off the floor, sighing at the dust bunnies I\u2019ve been too depressed to chase away and peek out my back door to find God crouching down planting a garden in my back yard. \u00a0I guess all those agricultural references in the Bible were for a reason\u2014God is a gardener!<\/p>\n I watch him for a moment. He\u2019s wearing one of those ridiculously big hats; the ones old Southern women wear when they plant tomatoes\u2014even and especially if they hate tomatoes. One day\u2014the Guy gardening on my porch willing\u2014 I\u2019ll wear a big hat and ugly clothes and grow things in the dirt too.<\/p>\n If this were another time I\u2019d walk out there and say something snarky like, \u201cWhat\u2019s with the big hat, Yahweh?\u00a0 You\u2019ve got some kind of God complex or something?\u201d\u00a0 But today I\u2019m too angry for snark. \u00a0No, we\u2019re passed our snarky phase, God and me. We passed snarky straight through to tentative \u201cAre you there God?\u201d prayers to rooted to my living room floor bitter and still silences. \u00a0I blame God for not showing up when it all hit the fan<\/b>.\u00a0 Where was he when our car broke down after a bad oil change? And where was he when my son was being bullied at school? What about our housing situation becoming stressful? Doesn\u2019t he want us to move into the city to live incarnationally with the under-resourced in Roxbury?\u00a0 What about our church plant and its slow growth?\u00a0 Where was Old Green Thumb then?\u00a0 Probably working in someone else\u2019s garden.<\/p>\n I\u2019m so angry. I\u2019m so over him and \u201chis ways\u201d.\u00a0 I\u2019m\u00a0 sick and tired of not growing wearing in doing good and waiting on the time to reap a good harvest,<\/i> that I decide to give him a piece of my mind.\u00a0 Even though, we\u2019re past cuss word-riddled prayers, I\u2019ve got a few choice words for Him. Words like: done.\u00a0 Over. \u00a0Atheism. Or even better, Scientology. Yes, it\u2019s aliens and mind control for me!\u00a0 After all, I like a good fiction now and then.<\/p>\n Wait! Is there some Kool-Aid drinking cult I can join?\u00a0 I do look pretty awesome in a peasant skirt.\u00a0 Yes, it\u2019s the cult life for me. Polygamy and charismatic cuckoos here I come.<\/p>\n So, I step out on the porch to tell God I\u2019m going to become Moon Sister Osheta Wife Number 43, when he stops humming and looks up. I\u2019m captivated by his eyes.\u00a0 They are the brightest hue I\u2019ve ever seen.\u00a0 They\u2019re not just one color, they\u2019re many\u2014crystal blue, glittering gold, and comforting brown. So many colors I\u2019ve never seen before and so, so bright.\u00a0 I can\u2019t take it, so I look away. After a beat he starts humming again.<\/p>\n Now I\u2019m all types of irritated.\u00a0 It\u2019s not like we just didn\u2019t have a moment just now! I mean, Hello!\u00a0 Before he showed Elijah his glory he said something to him, like \u201cRise up, I\u2019m going to show you my glory\u201d. \u00a0After the year I just had I want to hear something from him\u2014even if it\u2019s in a still small voice. But no\u2014he just locks me in a gaze with his awesome God eyes and then goes back to humming. And gardening.<\/p>\n And breathing.<\/p>\n I can hear him take in a deep breath and exhale while he works. It\u2019s a curious sound.\u00a0 I mean, God shouldn\u2019t have asthma, but his breathing is so loud, so pronounced, so intentional.\u00a0 I wonder what\u2019s up. But I can\u2019t handle those perfect eyes again and I\u2019m so tired of his evasive Rabbi answer a question with a question techniques, so I dare not look back to see what all the breathing\u2019s about.<\/p>\n As if he can read my mind and well\u2026he can\u2026he stops his humming, takes in another deep breath and says, \u201cI know you\u2019re mad at me.\u201d<\/p>\n Like the reprieve of the sun on a cold winter\u2019s day, my soul warms to the idea of hoping once again. Was it his words or his breath? I can\u2019t tell, I just know I want him to keep talking.<\/p>\n \u201cWell\u2026 I mean you can read minds, right?\u201d\u00a0 I sullenly reply.<\/p>\n God chuckles! And its like Brian Mcknight, John Legend, Idina Menzel, and Adele made a sound love child.\u00a0 It\u2019s more beautiful than both Gungor brothers and more comforting than Julie Andrews\u2019, \u201cFavorite Things\u201d.\u00a0 That sound coming from that Glorious Gardener is stunning.\u00a0 I remember why the cult life is not for me.\u00a0 I\u2019m a Kingdom girl.\u00a0 I\u2019m just so royally pissed at My King.<\/p>\n \u201cCome sit by me while I work.\u201d He invites.<\/p>\n I gesture around.\u00a0 \u201cWell, God\u2026um\u2026I\u2019d love to and all\u2026but you know I\u2019m not a nature-nature girl. How about I sit over here by my trash can, far away from all that\u2026dirt.\u201d<\/p>\n God smiles and\u2014boom!\u00a0 Did I mention his smile?\u00a0 I mean, move over Morgan Freeman.<\/p>\n \u201cCome and sit by me while I work.\u201d\u00a0 He offers once again.\u00a0 This time I can tell he won\u2019t press; he\u2019ll let me sit by the trashcan if I want. It\u2019s doesn\u2019t escape me that the Almighty is faithfully working downwind from all my junk.<\/p>\n \u201cOk, but don\u2019t you get any of that dirt on me.\u00a0 You know You\u2019re still in trouble, right?\u201d<\/p>\n God lifts up his big dirty hands, \u201cPromise and yes, I know you\u2019re not happy with me.\u201d<\/p>\n I gingerly sit down next to God, while he goes back to humming.\u00a0 Why doesn\u2019t he start explaining himself<\/i>, I wonder. Why doesn\u2019t he explain everything<\/i>?\u00a0 The car, our housing, our church plant, the bullying? <\/i>\u00a0G-OD, you\u2019ve got some splainin to do!<\/i><\/p>\n While he\u2019s working in my garden, pulling up weeds and planting new baby bulbs, I see what he\u2019s breathing on.\u00a0 Every so often, he\u2019ll pull a seedling up from the ground, dust off the roots to reveal it\u2019s stringy, floppy, wilted state. Then, he\u2019ll breathe in and exhale over the seedling. When his breath touches the seedling, the roots straighten up, fill out, and extend down with a new vitality.<\/p>\n I\u2019m mesmerized by in and out, death and life, broken and wholeness, of his divine gardening technique.<\/strong><\/p>\n \u201cGod?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHmmm?\u201d he replies half humming\/half speaking.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy do you pull those baby plants up and breathe on them?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause you asked me to.\u201d<\/p>\n Perplexed, I hazard a glance at those brilliant eyes only to find he\u2019s settled them on the brown.\u00a0 Like mine, they\u2019re rich and almond-shaped and wonderfully, humanly brown.<\/p>\n \u201cWait\u2026what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou see, honey, we\u2019ve been at this for a long time.\u00a0 You give something over to me and ask me to take care of it.\u00a0 So I plant it here in my garden. When you were a little girl it was your worth.\u00a0 When you were a teen it was your sexuality. When you were a new mama it was your babies.\u00a0 When you got married it was your marriage, and now that you\u2019re planting a church with your husband it\u2019s your church plant.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, but I ask you to take care of these things.\u00a0 So that means you take care of it! You do your happy God thing and speak peace and shalom over it. \u00a0Not let everything fall apart, not disappoint me, or hide your plans for me.\u00a0 How are you taking care of those things when it\u2019s all coming apart now?\u00a0 I mean hello God, for a Savior with all that swagger you sure are stingy with the blessings.\u00a0 A simple \u201clet there be\u2026\u201d from you and we could have our car repaired, a new place to live in the city, a thriving church plant, and happy kids.\u00a0 So, tell me how breathing a little breath on some dirty plants is taking care of me<\/i>?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m glad we\u2019re back to snark.\u201d\u00a0 He quips.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t try to be funny now.\u00a0 I\u2019m really mad at you!\u00a0 Tell me how breathing onto some roots is \u2018taking care of me\u2019\u201d.<\/p>\n \u201cEvery once in a while these roots turn into themselves, they start to rely on themselves for life, they try to hold on to yesterday\u2019s nutrients to sustain them for today, they forget where they get life. They grow bitter and cold.\u00a0 So I come along and breathe on them.\u00a0 I remind them of my love and life and protection. I breathe on these roots Osheta, because you asked me to.\u00a0 I breathe onto these roots because you need to remember.\u00a0 I am the Good Gardener and I will always take care of you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou know, you\u2019re tricky God.\u00a0 Plants and roots and breathing. You\u2019re so, so tricky.\u00a0 I can\u2019t figure you out.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re not supposed to\u2014I\u2019m God\u201d he jokes.<\/p>\n \u201cHa-ha\u201d I tease and impulsively fling soil towards him.<\/p>\n He flings it back, \u201cI just want to love you and for you to love me back.\u00a0 One day you\u2019ll get it all, but for now, will you just let me breathe on you? Will you let me remind you of who you are? Will you let go of bitterness and trust the truth of my love for you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOk\u2026but before you do,\u00a0 remember this: I was on my way to becoming Wife Number 43 in a super cute organic cotton peasant skirt. I was going to put my summer camp counselor skills to good use by mixing up sweet and yummy watermelon Kool-Aid\u2014don\u2019t forget that. \u201c<\/p>\n God smirks and shakes his head, causing that fantastically ugly hat to flop a bit, \u201cNo, I won\u2019t.\u00a0 Are you ready?\u201d<\/p>\n I nod and God cups my face with those dirty, perfect hands and breathes over me, \u201cYou are mine\u201d.<\/b><\/p>\n![\"DeathtoStock_Cozy5\"](\"https:\/\/oshetablogs.files.wordpress.com\/2014\/03\/deathtostock_cozy51.jpg?w=640\")
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