Tending in the Season of Drought
My garden was sad this year. Week after week after week passed by with soaring temperatures and without any rain. My plants began to dry up. Then plants still clinging to life started to be consumed by the horde of grasshoppers that moved in. The raspberry bushes hummed and vibrated with the munching of thousands of grasshoppers. My rhubarb plant was chewed into leaf skeletons. The grasshoppers moved quickly into the peas and beans. Where most other years I’ve had the kids complaining about the massive amounts of beans we have to pick and keen and blanch, this year we were lucky to get enough for one pot of fresh schaulbel zup in early summer. The lawn was brown and dry and crunchy by early July so that it was almost painful to go around in bare feet, plus there was the danger of multitudes of grasshoppers jumping on your legs or being squashed between your toes. We started to wonder if the canola would amount to anything. We hoped there would be enough grass for the cows in the pasture to last at least till the end of summer when usually they’re in pasture well into fall. The goats had to eat last year’s hay since there was no fresh grass for them to eat.
And then, one blessed day in the middle of August, it rained. We got just over an inch of rain, not nearly enough to compensate for the ‘worst drought in 150 years,’ but amazingly, the world started greening up right away! The grass no longer hurt our feet. The rhubarb grew leaves again. It was like the whole world breathed a sigh of relief and resumed living. And then we got another rain the following week and the lawn is practically lush! Autumn flowers started blooming. The earth came to life again at the end of summer when things usually begin to die. The pasture started growing again and the cows and goats are eating the freshest, juiciest plants they’ve eaten all season.
There have been periods in my life recently that have mirrored spiritually what has been going on in the physical world. My prayer life has been dry, Bible reading sometimes a chore, living the Christian life has felt like a beleaguered existence, any little sprout of growth seems to get consumed by the grasshoppers of difficulties and animosities in the world around us. Sometimes life is crunchy and painful, spiritually speaking. I long for goodness, I hunger for connection and kindness, I thirst for spiritual nourishment … And that’s when Jesus says I am blessed. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.” (Mt. 5:6).
How can we know what it is to be hungry and thirsty for righteousness unless there seems to be scarcity? How can we know what it feels like to be full unless we know first what it feels like to be empty? It’s a challenging notion of the upside-down kingdom. The glory of the soft green grass is so much richer when it has been dry and brown and crunchy for months. The blessings raining down on us and the Source of the blessings are more obvious and satisfying when we have felt deprived for a while. The speed with which the grass turned green reminded me of Jeremiah 17:7-8 which says, “Blessed is the one who trusts in the LORD, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit”.
The grass was not green, but nor was it dead. The drought caused its roots to grow deeper into the earth. Even though the grasshoppers ate most of my raspberries, I was still able to collect more than I had the year before. My radishes grew big and weren’t wormy or scabby like they usually are. My tomatoes actually ripened on the vine. I look eagerly for any zucchinis so I find them before they turn into hard, unusable baseball bats. The garden is fruitful in a new way.
Another benefit from this drought was that the weeds in my garden were easy to see. They seemed undeterred by the blazing sun or the lack of moisture and the grasshoppers seemed completely uninterested in eating in them. The weeds were thriving. BUT, when I finally went out to pull them up, it was easy. There was no dirt clinging to their roots and they caused very little disturbance to the vegetables growing beside them. Handfuls, wheelbarrows full, of weeds came up, no tugging necessary.
Perhaps a season of spiritual dryness is also a good time for weed-pulling in our lives. Perhaps the weeds of sin in our lives are easier to identify and easier to uproot and remove. Unhealthy attitudes become obvious and increase our thirst for righteousness. Isaiah 58:11 is a promise: “The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.” But it comes after God’s exhortation to his listeners that they leave their self-absorbed lives behind and instead maintain justice, do what is right, keep the Sabbath, and keep their hands from doing any kind of evil (Is. 58:1-2). God desires to bless us, but we need to cooperate in our movement towards holiness and blessing.
“Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this," says the LORD Almighty, "and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it. I will prevent pests from devouring your crops, and the vines in your fields will not drop their fruit before it is ripe,” says the LORD Almighty. Then all the nations will call you blessed, for yours will be a delightful land,” says the LORD Almighty” (Ml. 3:10–12). Maybe drought causes us to investigate the reasons behind the scarcity. Is my selfishness and entitlement crowding God’s room to work in my life?
Lord, may we be driven deeper into you in a season of spiritual dryness and thirst. May we desire your nearness and cry out for your grace and forgiveness. May we become empty so that we will more fully appreciate how you fill us up when the showers of your blessings fall.