Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

How amazing must the Garden of Eden have been? God’s personal garden designed to delight Himself and nurture His creations.  My imagination has no trouble envisioning such a place. Lush, green grass, free from quackgrass and clover, created for bare feet and grazing oxen. Breathtakingly gorgeous flowers scattered in wild abandon. Star-gazer Lilies, Orchids, Hyacinths. More variations than one could count or catalog. Colors that dare the rainbow to challenge their hue. Pathways lined with beautiful, healthy trees. Graceful maples. Stalwart oaks. Bowing willows. Stately crepe myrtles. Fragrant magnolias. And the orchard! Row upon row of heavily laden trees bearing fruit of every kind.  Peaches. Apples. Plums. Lemons. Not one dead limb.  No withered leaves. No weeds. No blossom end rot. God’s perfect garden.  More fantastic than my wildest imaginations.  

Pulled from my reverie, I look out the back window at my meager garden boxes. Obviously not Eden! Although the peppers and tomatoes appear to be doing well, there’s a plant damaged beyond repair from a recent hail storm. Its first crop will likely be its last. The herbs, beets, and lettuce are all shots in the dark. The cilantro was looking a bit peaked before I cut it off.  We’ll see if it grows back. The last box is ridiculously, embarrassingly overgrown. The cucumbers are running everywhere. The cantaloupe is fighting for space. And the eternal battle between myself and the zucchini rages on…as does the blossom end rot. Sigh. 

Over the years I have spent hours pouring over articles and methods, reading what causes holes in fruit, white spots on leaves, and yellowing of vines. I’ve been educating myself concerning bigger, better producing plants. I’m still researching. Still learning. Still reading. The one thing I know is that gardening, at least the vegetable kind, requires a lot of self-discipline.  Preparing the beds, boxes, or plots. Planning the layout. Planting. Fertilizing. Watering. Weeding. Waiting. The harvest takes a while to come. Sometimes I get tired and a little disillusioned along the way. I don’t feel like hauling water, staking plants, or weeding. I really don’t care to see what isn’t working out! Yet I rarely allow myself to miss a day of checking. Missing a day isn’t an option. When I miss, things get out of control, begin to rot, or die completely. It’s not worth it. 

Admittedly, God used my garden to point out how often I am tempted to skip or shorten my daily time with Him. Pull back on the Bible reading. Limit the prayer. Stop looking inside myself to see what is flourishing (good or bad), what is failing, and what has already faded away. I don’t always want to know what is in there. I bet you recognize that struggle. You know that reality. You’ve been there too. Maybe you are there right now.  

Some days it takes an immeasurable amount of self discipline to sit down, open the Bible and listen to God speak through His Word.  I don’t know why we feel this way.  Like  the weight of obligation has pulled too heavily at our conscience only to be assuaged by the drudgery of sitting down and reading a Book meant to encourage, enlighten, and edify. Why are we so hesitant?  Is there a better place for comfort? A better book for guidance?  A more worthy tome ensconced on your dust filled shelf in which you will find words of wisdom for your current situation? Of course not. We know this. Yet still we sigh as we sit down to do our “duty”.  

Two days ago I found myself wrestling with some seemingly impossible situations beyond my control. I sat at my desk and turned to the first chapter I planned to read that day, Jeremiah 32.  On the edge of the page, quoting a passage from that very chapter, were the words, “I am the Lord.  Is anything too hard for me?” (Jeremiah 32:27 NLT) My heart knew in an instant it was no fluke that I read that chapter on a day I was struggling with impossibilities. I know nothing is too hard for God, but I wanted answers and resolution as soon as possible.  Then I turned to the book I am reading simultaneously, Lamentations. Chapter 3. “Wait quietly for the Lord’s salvation.” (Lamentations 3:26)  Accident? Coincidence? Absolutely not. That was God at work. Everything I needed to find peace in my moment of struggle was right there in front of me. How much greater would my struggle have been without the reminder that God is omnipotent, God is sovereign, and His timing is impeccable?  What if I had chosen not to read my Bible that day?

What if I chose only to read my Bible occasionally or just catch a verse on a Bible app every now and then? What happens when other doctrines that aren’t quite Biblical, but sound good, come along? Would I be swept up in an unreality? Social media keeps us inundated with myriad versions of truth. There’s a quote currently floating around that appears to quote a passage of Scripture, but conveniently leaves out the last bit, thus manipulating the meaning by eliminating the context. The quotation sounds good, even right. It took me several sightings to pick out what bothered me. How easily I could have been swept away on a current of “sounds good” if I wasn’t acquainted with Scripture. If I hadn’t been so intentional about Bible reading and studying, I would have missed it. I almost did. It was close. (Psalm 119:11)

See, just like reading and studying about gardening helps my plants, reading and studying God’s Word helps my soul. It places a hedge around me. Personal knowledge of God’s Word helps us know when what we are seeing, hearing, or doing is untrue, unsound, or un-Godly. It keeps us from sin. It draws us to Christian maturity.  It guards against being pulled from one appealing doctrine to the next. When in doubt or indecision, knowing God’s Word is paramount. How imperative it is to give earnest attention to knowing and remembering God’s Word so we don’t slip away.  Away from truth.  Away from holiness.  Away from God. (Hebrews 2:1) Don’t quit reading. 

And with your reading, pray. Constantly. This is my final, continual, most urgent part of gardening. Every year I pray over my garden–and continue to pray over it. When the wind, hail and driving rain roll in, I pray. When the sun shines, I pray. Every year my garden succeeds.  Those prayers make it happen. My garden wouldn’t make it without those prayers. 

Our souls won’t make it without prayer, either. The Apostle Paul instructs us to pray continually. (I Thessalonians 5:17). Driving to work. Mowing the lawn. Cooking dinner. Folding laundry. Jogging the neighborhood. Pray. Waking up. Falling asleep. Pray. Tempted to worry. (Philippians 4:16) Tempted to fear. Tempted to stray. Pray. Always. (Psalm 105:4)

In a world where we are distracted by so many things, where the siren call of the temporal is so much louder than that of the eternal, may we turn our minds and spirits to seek the Lord. (I Chronicles 16:11) May we be intentional about knowing God, His Word, His voice, His heart. Read. Pray. Learn. Constantly. May we learn to live in a spirit of prayer with a mindset firmly rooted in the truth of God’s Word.  Then, when hail and wind and heavy rains beat on our souls, we can rest in our knowledge of what’s in the Book and trust the Master Gardener to ensure our gardens grow. (Matthew 7:24-25)