August 13, 2010 by Debbie.

Every time I clean an onion my mind flashes back to an old memory. When we lived in Columbus, Ohio about 30 years ago our neighbor’s husband had just left her. She was a stay at home mom and found herself desperately trying to provide for herself and her two young children, one who was very disabled. Insensitively, one day I called and asked if I could borrow an onion from her. She didn’t even pause before saying yes, and said she’d even bring it over. When she brought the ‘onion’ it turned out to be small pieces of the inside of onions that had sprouted - you know, the small green onion that will form if onions are kept too long. That was all she’d had left from her past onion supply but she had saved them, chopped them and had them ready in a bag for use. She brought ALL of her present onions, which also represented her foreseeable future onions as she had no income for any more.  She said she believed she’d have more onions when that bag ran out, she just didn’t know how.  Rather than offend her I took a small portion of her onions - pieces of onions I previously would have composted with no thought of actually using them.

So every time I clean an onion, my heart still hurts for what she went through.

Our onion supply from last winter’s planting is nearing it’s end. I sorted through the bucket to weed out any onion that had started to rot. Our onion crop this year was not as big as past years, partially due to not planting as many but largely due to lack of sun in the rainy winter and early spring. As I sorted, I didn’t give any thought to the ‘is this big enough to keep?’ question.  No onion was too small to not keep, not after seeing that bag of onion pieces through my memory’s eyes.

I’ve been thinking lately a lot about faith.  Sometimes I want big faith - like saving the whole city of Sherman. And sometimes in wanting the big faith I overlook the ONE person who wants and needs God. So right now, I’m asking God for just one person, or one family, to come to Him. No onion too small faith.

By the way, that neighbor’s husband never came back to her. Never regularly paid child support, and never saw their disabled child again. The neighbor lost her home but held on to her children. She later happily remarried, and hopefully had a whole kitchen full of onions!

Small onions ready to grill - that’s a butter knife handle beside them for sizing.

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August 3, 2010 by Debbie.

This past Sunday, our pastor encouraged all of us, as a church body, to read Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire by Jim Cymbala.  So I started reading it Sunday afternoon. Mostly it reminds me of the parable of the sower and the good soil. Remember there were 4 types of soil, each responding to the seed differently. It wasn’t a seed problem, but a soil problem that either caused crop production or failure.

I’ve been lazy these last couple of years. Honestly, I was just wore out. For several years John worked full + time and finished his degree on the side as well as kept Beulah Land, Inc. (a home based business) going. I know he was more exhausted than I during those two years but after he graduated it was normal for me to continue carrying the same load without even realizing it.  So my physical body is just now recuperating from the past several years of overuse.

I see the same thing in my garden soils. I had one temporary garden that was used just for one winter and one spring - not an extensive time period, yet I can see how the soil level has dropped 1 to 2 inches from the surrounding ground soil level. It’s amazing how much soil was used up for just 6 months of garden use. The soil that started out as ‘good soil’ is now depleted not only of nutrients but of tilth and  is growing weeds instead of healthy grass as it reverts back to yard.

Why do we expect less from our souls and spirits? Do we expect to be classified once and for all as ‘good soil’ with no continued soil amendments? I don’t think it works that way any more than my temporary garden spot did. Keeping good soil is just plain work. Boring work at times. Back breaking work at times. Hot and frustrating work at times. But there’s also joyous work at times. Nothing is more encouraging than working in the dirt in the coolness of a spring morning. Nothing is more exciting than harvesting that first crisp cucumber or ripe juicy tomato. Then all that grueling work is worthwhile and no amount of money could buy that first glorious crop - no wonder God asked the Israelites for  the first fruits of their labor!

As we’re spending more time and a lot more money on rejuvenating Beulah Land, I’m seeing the spiritual applications - first the natural, then the spiritual. Among other things, I’m learning I can’t do it alone. Below is a picture of a fantastic worker, John N., who gives up his day off to help me clear a goat pasture.

He did a good job, huh?!

And here’s the turkeys and chicks at almost 3 months old. The turkeys are so amazing to me. Their legs are like stilts they’re so long. They’re the most curious of birds, pecking to check out the buckles on my sandals each time I step in their area. I’ve already name one of them Thanksgiving and one Christmas. They’re of the Dinner linage.They are churning the goats’ bedding into rich compost that will help feed next year’s gardens.

Evening sunset finds me tired but not as worn out as a year ago. We’re starting to reap the benefit of giving back to the land, being better stewards of what God has loaned us. Last night John and I actually sat on the porch swing and saw a sunset together. Been too long.

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