Cultivating hope

By Jessica Brodie

I have a confession: I’m an awful gardener. I’ve tried a few times to plant a vegetable garden, and I just don’t know what I’m doing. The first time, a few years ago at my first home in Lexington, my efforts produced exactly one tomato. The second time, I managed to grow some flowers, but that was it. Last year, my husband and I worked so hard and spent way too much money building raised garden beds in the backyard of our current home, and all that work got us one skinny, mottled-looking bell pepper. It’s abysmal.

The irony is I recently published my first novel, which happens to be titled “The Memory Garden,” and garden references are woven throughout. As you can guess, I want so badly to be a gardener, or at least the kind of woman who knows how to cultivate the land and produce good things from God’s creation, but it’s not a natural gift. It doesn’t just magically happen.

The truth is you usually have to invest time and skill into something for it to come to fruition. You have to work hard, pay attention and genuinely invest time and heart into a dream to make it a reality.  

And I know that’s where I go wrong with gardening. I haven’t taken the necessary steps to do it right, to tend the soil and care properly and diligently for my garden in order for it to thrive.

But I’m nothing if not an optimist, and the next time I attempt to start a garden, I’m convinced it’ll be far more successful. That’s because I’ll be taking advice from people who actually know what they’re doing, not to mention putting in real time—not lackluster half-attention—to help it thrive.

It reminds me of the things we strive to accomplish here on earth, and I think it ties in perfectly with the theme of this year’s Annual Conference: See the Possibilities, the Promise of a Seed, from Jeremiah 29:5-7. In this passage, God is urging the Israelites to live with purpose and hope within their current circumstances, contributing to the well-being of their new home while maintaining their faith and waiting for God’s future plan.

It’s certainly what I must do with my garden—work hard with purpose and hope to cultivate what God has provided, trusting that my hard work and dedication will eventually pay off.

And isn’t that what we must do as a denomination? As a universal, united, worldwide church?  

We must sow seeds of love and healing as we share the Gospel, knowing we’ll reap a harvest that brings glory to God Almighty.

Let’s all embrace the promise of a seed together, trusting that God’s good purpose will prevail.