The Fruits of My Labor

20140624_091106-001As someone who wears at least two (often more) creative hats every day – maker, messenger, mother, manager, and more – I put my energy into a wide variety of projects and people, the results of which are often unseen (or at least not directly attributable to me). And that’s okay, since I find it much more fun to spread seeds than to sit and watch them grow.

But every once in a while, it’s nice to check in on my garden (both literal and metaphorical) and see what’s growing.


Three months ago, I began a short term gig, preaching at First Presbyterian Church in Mt. Vernon, Illinois. What I presumed was just place-holding concluded last weekend with cards and gifts and heartfelt words of appreciation (something a one-and-done supply preacher doesn’t usually get to experience). I stood outside myself for a moment, surprised at how many people I could call on by name and how much context I had now for the joys and concerns they shared each week. Like a bulb I’d forgotten I planted, it was a nice surprise to see this relationship bear fruit that fed this congregation as much as it fed me.

After almost two years of blogging, the line between vocation and avocation is getting lost in the leaves of this sapling. This site has produced a number of offshoots for me, personally and professionally, thanks to references others make to it – in newsletters, blogs, Facebook and Twitter, and potentially in print later this year. I don’t fully believe in the “do what you love and the money will follow” philosophy, but I do use the growth of this site as my litmus test for where and how to direct my energy these days. Thanks for affirming it’s not wasted here.

20140624_091158-002And then there’s the obvious, literal growth I’m blessed to behold this summer. Although very few of our seeds survived the transition from sunny windowsill to backyard garden, we came back from last week’s vacation to find a handful of green beans, ready to pick. Sure, it’s barely a serving, but more than enough to make my younger son and me stand a little taller as we reaped what we’d sown.

Best of all, this morning, there were finally enough zinnias blooming to fill a small bud vase. So, I embraced the cut-and-come-again reputation of these beauties and have them sitting next to me – inspiration, from one Maker to another.

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