I threw away my garden

I threw away my vegetable garden. I wish I was being metaphorical, but I am not. I went out to the garden today, like normal, but instead of nurturing it as I have been for the past six weeks I pulled out the tomato plants that I had planted in the ground and threw away the cucumbers, zucchini and other plants that I have been raising from seed.

The biggest question on your mind right now is why? Those who know me, know how much I love tending my garden. It is a place where, historically, I have been able to meet God. I have had amazing times of worship and revelation about how God cares for his children by tending a little plot of dirt.

But not this year. At least not with this set of plants.

Several weeks ago, I don't even remember when though I know it was before I planted the seeds, I felt God prompting me not to actually plant this year. I wrestled with it. I argued. I rationalized. I had talks with my wife about it. There was money spent on the raised beds and on the dirt. There were the plans for canning all the tomatoes and other various veggies raised to enjoy year round. So why not have a garden?

There was no answer. So I forged ahead, planting the seeds, getting the tomato plants, planning the plots and creating the irrigation system. And yet there was this little niggling in the back of my head. This little thorn that wouldn't leave me alone. I could ignore it, but I couldn't enjoy God's presence. At least not like in the past. I knew that he still smiled when he thought about me, but I still felt the question in my spirit when I came into his presence: "Have you done what I asked?"

This week, that quiet little niggle turned into a loud scream. A silent one, but it was always there. no matter how busy I was (and this week was the busiest of my career). I couldn't ignore it. I couldn't silence it. The only thing that I could do was run from God and that isn't an option.

Today was the hardest. I was chased around by the story of Abraham and sacrifice of Isaac followed by the question "Do you love Me more than your garden?" I knew the answer was yes, but I also knew what that meant. I couldn't bear the thought of saying no. That would be patently crazy. Saying to the creator of the plant "No, I love the plants more than I love you". It would be possible to say, but ridiculous.

So I threw away my garden. It wasn't easy. I would be lying if I said that I didn't shed a few tears. However, as I explained to the children, just as I ask them to do things that they don't understand, Jesus asks us to do things that we don't understand.

So, why did I throw away my garden? Because God asked me to. Why did he ask me to? Ask Abraham and Isaac. Maybe they know.