Category: Personal

My parents are really into gardening. When I was a child we had a large garden and two allotments.

For those of you who aren’t from the UK, an allotment is a piece of land that you hire (normally) from the local council in order to have more land to grow things on.

The three children were expected to help out, my brother, my sister and I.

One of the jobs that I had mixed feelings about was the watering. Some days the watering was fun, some days it was pure drudgery.

At the allotments that taps was not directly next to our plots. At one of them it was what seemed like a mile away, but I think it was only a few plots away. This one, I remember, was a screw tap which was really, really difficult to open and close.

At the other allotment the tap was only one plot away. This tap was different. In order to stop water wastage the council had fitted a plunger tap, the type that you press down when you want water and soon after you lift your hand off the water stops. You sometimes see this type in public toilets which is always a challenge because the thing you are trying to wash is the thing that is making the water run. The theory on water wastage hadn’t allowed for human ingenuity though. Hidden behind the tap was a piece of wood which had a slot in it; this slot was just the right size to fit over the top and bottom of the tap once the plunger had been depressed. You could fill a watering can without having to spend the whole time pressing the plunger, you could even wander off and forget about the watering can altogether.

My remembrance of watering at the allotments was that it took hours and hours, but I was a young boy who was easily bored. It probably didn’t take long at all.

Now I’m an adult and have my own watering to do I feel radically different about it. Watering the plants is quite therapeutic. I know that these plants rely on me to bring them life giving water. They need me. They aren’t massively demanding, but they still have a need. A need which I can fulfill.

Although I have fulfilled their need for today I will still need to water tomorrow though.

A woman, a Samaritan, came to draw water. Jesus said, “Would you give me a drink of water?” (His disciples had gone to the village to buy food for lunch.)

The Samaritan woman, taken aback, asked, “How come you, a Jew, are asking me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?” (Jews in those days wouldn’t be caught dead talking to Samaritans.)

Jesus answered, “If you knew the generosity of God and who I am, you would be asking me for a drink, and I would give you fresh, living water.”

The woman said, “Sir, you don’t even have a bucket to draw with, and this well is deep. So how are you going to get this ‘living water’? Are you a better man than our ancestor Jacob, who dug this well and drank from it, he and his sons and livestock, and passed it down to us?”

Jesus said, “Everyone who drinks this water will get thirsty again and again. Anyone who drinks the water I give will never thirst—not ever. The water I give will be an artesian spring within, gushing fountains of endless life.”

John 4

This morning I got out of bed and went downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs I turned right, went down a little corridor and into the kitchen. In the kitchen I opened a cupboard and took out a bowl. I placed the bowl on the work-surface next to another cupboard. I open the other cupboard and took out some cereal. I then reached into the fridge below the work-surface and took out some milk. I poured the milk onto the cereal. I then opened a draw and took out a spoon. Remembering first to shut all of the various cupboards I picked up my bowl of cereal and milk and proceeded into the lounge. In the lounge I ate my cereal.

This routine is similar to the one I follow almost every morning. I follow it so regularly that it has become familiar and almost automatic; so automatic that most of the time I forget what a luxury it is.

I don’t have to worry about whether there will be any cereal in the cupboard – there is always some sort of cereal in the cupboard.

I don’t have to worry whether there will be any milk. If there isn’t any in the fridge there is normally some on the doorstep. If things are really bad and there isn’t any on the doorstep I can get in my car and get some within 10 minutes.

It’s important that we remember that these are luxuries, for most people in the world food is a day-to-day hand-to-mouth struggle.

Sometimes I catch myself getting annoyed that the cereal available in the cupboard isn’t the cereal that I wanted that day when I realise what I am doing I feel ashamed.

Count the day-to-day blessings as well.

A family friend was visiting yesterday. She bought with her a magnificent chocolate cake (pictured). It was still in good shape when she left – it isn’t now .

I can’t see it lasting the rest of the day, the diets are definitely out of the window today. I’ve already been down the gym this morning so I’m using that as my justification for just one more piece, or perhaps two, I did work very hard, honest .

I’m sure it was bigger than this when I left for the gym, perhaps the kids had some in their lunch boxes .

It’s very nice with a cup of coffee.

We don’t have a vegetable patch in our garden, but we do have a number of pots which we use to grow various things that we like to eat. Taste is not the only criteria for growing things though, we only grow stuff which doesn’t require too much attention, we also like things that produce results quickly.

Over the last few days we have started to eat some of the things that we have grown.

On Sunday we had a first carrots, thinned out little ones which were really tasty. The carrots were followed by wonderfully tasty strawberries.

Last night we had lettuce and rocket, along with new potato seasoned with fresh mint.

These all tasted infinitely better than anything we have bought in a shop. Whether an independent taste test would confirm this; I don’t know. If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, taste is definitely in the mouth of the grower. I grew them, and to me they taste fabulous.

We still have beans, peas, courgette, tomatoes and sweet corn to look forward too, as well as more lettuce, rocket, strawberries and carrots – delicious, perhaps not all in the same dish though.

I don’t really see myself as the grower though – I just planted them and gave them the occasional watering.

Jesus told a number of parables about crops and harvesting. It’s not surprising really, he was talking to a rural community. One of the famous ones is this one:

“What do you make of this? A farmer planted seed. As he scattered the seed, some of it fell on the road, and birds ate it. Some fell in the gravel; it sprouted quickly but didn’t put down roots, so when the sun came up it withered just as quickly. Some fell in the weeds; as it came up, it was strangled by the weeds. Some fell on good earth, and produced a harvest beyond his wildest dreams.”

Matthew 13

Another translation goes like this:

“A farmer went out to plant some seed. As he scattered it across his field, some seeds fell on a footpath, and the birds came and ate them. Other seeds fell on shallow soil with underlying rock. The plants sprang up quickly, but they soon wilted beneath the hot sun and died because the roots had no nourishment in the shallow soil. Other seeds fell among thorns that shot up and choked out the tender blades. But some seeds fell on fertile soil and produced a crop that was thirty, sixty, and even a hundred times as much as had been planted.”

Matthew 13

That’s an interesting story, but then Jesus goes on to say these words:

“Anyone who is willing to hear should listen and understand!”

Understand what? Hear what? Why was he talking in parables anyway? These were exactly the stories the disciples asked. If you read the rest of the chapter Jesus goes on to explain why he uses parables and the meaning of this particular parable. I’m not going to go over His explanation other than to say:

“The seed cast on good earth is the person who hears and takes in the News, and then produces a harvest beyond his wildest dreams.”

One of the mind games I try to play in order to keep my brain active is to try and learn a new word every day. I do this by subscribing to wordsmith.org A.Word.A.Day. I don’t always remember them because, to be honest, sometimes the word is not one I’m likely to use in my normal life.

I’ve been away on business this week. I left on Tuesday and returned late Thursday. On Wednesday the word for the day was nostomania.

Nostomania: An overwhelming desire to return home or to go back to familiar places.

I’m not sure I was suffering an ‘overwhelming desire’ but when I am away the desire to be home is always there.

I count it a real blessing that my home is somewhere that I actually want to return to.

Thing may not always be rosy at home, but I’d rather be here than anywhere else on earth.

But what makes a home – a home. It’s not the building, or even the things in it, it is the people inside and the people near by.

Today I went out into the garden to do some reading. I was reading from my computer so wanted to sit on a chair in the shade. As I tramped across the grass in my bare feet it suddenly became refreshingly cold and damp. It was a wonderful feeling on such a warm day.

Mean-tempered leaders are like mad dogs; 
the good-natured are like fresh morning dew.

Proverbs 19:12

(No it isn’t my garden in the picture, I’m not that fortunate)