As I stood in my garden this morning, I gazed upon the now empty beds. I remembered the hope I had as we planted those first seeds. I felt the relief of when the cabbage did not grow; we never really enjoyed cabbage that much. I remember the disappointment of the lettuce that looked beautiful but was bitter to the palate. The joy of harvesting half a bed of carrots. And now sadness as I look upon stunted watermelons and withering vines.
In many ways, the garden itself reflects our journey in Zambia. In both our personal and professional lives, Kyle and I find ourselves feeling a bit like those withering vines:
1)About two weeks ago, my laptop's hard drive died.
2)Due to some technicalities, I will need to reduce my involvement in a few areas in order to wait until things can be sorted out. This has included postponing the training I was hosting with some community women; an activity that was opening a lot of doors and having impact.
3)A close friend is carrying some heavy burdens.
There are other challenges and discouragements (the specifics of which we cannot explain in detail here) each day that we must find a way to believe that God is redeeming in spite of what we see. I shared a quote some time ago on our blog: Hope is hearing the music of the future...Faith is to dance to it. Sometimes the music sounds so dim we can hardly hear the beat and other days we are too tired to even listen. It would be easy to feel buried under the weight of the things we carry...especially as the realities of where we live begin to hit closer and closer to home. When it is no longer strangers who struggle, but those strangers are now our friends and we now identify with those struggles. It is tempting to give up and run away from the pain of other people's lives...when your heart begins to break for the things that break the heart of the Father...
Like the garden, things can often appear withered and dying in our lives. How should we respond in times like these? I am reminded that below the soil of those empty beds are the remnants of those bitter leaves and dead cabbage. The death of these plants acts as a compost for future seeds. And when we plant the next batch of seeds this month, that compost will help the soil to produce stronger and healthier life. I suppose at this point, I could choose to give up and leave the ground fallow. However, because I believe that nothing is beyond redemption, I will not give up now. I will plant again this month and believe that out of bitterness, new things will be made. Although right now I am disappointed, it will not always be this way. And I will choose to dance to the music of the future.
From LYRICSMODE.COM lyrics archive
And already God is giving us things to be thankful for:
1)We are excited to announce that we have officially received our first guest to Chipata, Zambia. Our dear friend and sister in the Lord, Jenny Richardson, arrived on February 26 to join us for about three months. She hopes to visit with the community center, some medical facilities, and schools. Her presence came at a difficult time and has been refreshing for us. Please pray that God would provide some unique opportunities for her while she is here.
2)There is yet another more permanent addition to our household. Kyle and I acquired a kitten while we traveled to Lusaka for ten days in February. We call her Shumba, which we were told means 'lion' in a local tribal language. She is a friendly and playful cat who has taken a particular appreciation for our screens. Nevertheless, we are happy to have her around and on difficult days she always makes us laugh.
Below are a few pictures. The first I can say, I am pretty sure she is not the reason the hard drive failed. The second is with two of the children of Phillip, our worker.
I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.--John 12:24
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