There is a picture hanging in the Fruit of the Vine. It is a young person holding fishes and loaves.
I love the picture. It is beautiful.
I love the story of Jesus asking his disciples how much they had and them having only a little gave it to him. Jesus asks what we have and we respond "not much" Jesus takes what little we have and He feeds thousands.
All God asks of us is to come with what we have. Be human. Be finite. Be limited. Be honest. Bring to Jesus whatever you have whatever it looks like no matter how ugly or useless or broken or tiny it may seem to you bring it.
It is in this that Jesus looks at us, us sinners and he sees what we have and with a beautiful smile and a laugh he speaks to our hearts "I can make that work" and out come an abundance. Not simply enough but rather left overs.
I love God for many many reasons and one of them being this. Beauty from ashes, abundance from little. Making all things new.When I look into this painting I think about Norwood. I think about Parish Farming. I think about how small I am. I think about communion. I think about sharing. I think about love. I think about Jesus. I think about how simple yet profound sharing a meal can be. I think about the miracle of new life from a seed to plant. I love God. God is love and love is life and life is good. I think about the Arawak Garden.
The Arawak Garden is a place the city has rejected. It is an empty lot the city doesn't know what to do with. It is vacant. It is worthless. It was turned into a garden by some anarchists but even they neglected it. Even to the forgotten it was forgotten. Renegade farmers began to sew and reap from this place still without ownership without meaning.
Then one day it started to become something. Slowly bit by bit. It started with an e-mail. It started with an idea. We arrived on that chilly autumn day overwhelmed by the work that needed to be done yet at the same time overwhelmed by the hope that was hidden inside the labor.
Winter came and it was a harsh winter. The weather reached record lows and the snow fell at record amounts. Along with the weather life had changed. Plans crumbled. Fear, pain, uncertainty during the cold dark winter months. But during all of this God was with us. God was standing in the snow up to his knees well below freezing at the Arawak Garden God can see beauty in the dead of winter. God was with me through tears, through questions, through growth. God can see beauty in pain and confusion.
Slowly bit by bit the snow began to melt. The days slowly grew longer and longer. The sun gained its strength back and the soil began to soften. What was underneath the snow again looked laborious and doubtful. But God turned ashes to beauty.
One sunny day in late April God showed me his love through friends, through spring. God showed me life out of death.
As we were all working side by side pulling weeds spreading compost and planting seeds I had to stop for a minute and take it in. Over 20 people had showed up that day and my heart could barely take it. Here in the forgotten plot of land that no one wanted. In this land that the city thought held no value, I had a wealth that exceeded value.
God stood there in the same place that He had during that frigid winter smiling in the sun. I had my own plans for 2014. I had my own plans for the Pantry, for the Garden. God spoke to me and said if I take from you will you still pursue those plans? Will you still pursue that dream, that vision? Am I enough?
Painfully I pushed on. Week by week I showed up to that garden watching the weeds we had just pulled up grow back twofold. As I sat there hour after hour week after week month after month pulling weeds sitting with God I was slowly healing.
I was pulling the weeds of the garden while God tended to the garden of my soul. Am I enough? God asked as I often thought about someone not by my side. Am I enough? Yes God You are enough. Weed after weed slowly with my bare hands. Soil under my fingernails. Thinking about how the first Adam was made from soil and the first weeds made from sin. Now, this Adam pulling weeds out of soil, God pulling sin out of man.
Standing there hungry asking God for nourishment God looked at me and asked how much I have and I respond "not much" He spoke to my heart "I can make that work"
I returned from Europe to find the garden exploding with food begging to be harvested. I raced home with buckets and buckets of vegetables panicking about what to do about all this food hoping it wasn't too late that it hadn't gotten bitter missing the best harvest time.
I called my Franklinton Garden friends begging for help. This community coming beside me giving me peace with a glass of wine. I began to wash the lettuce as they chopped the chard.
I remember the feeling carrying that first batch of greens into the pantry. I was hooked.
Now it is my weekly sanctuary in my own kitchen like a bird learning to fly on its own I now stand chopping, washing, slicing, seasoning, frying, stirring on my own.Sunday night the sun is slowly setting the tiny green clock on the coffee maker reads 7:00 in it's robotic duty. I begin by hauling up the bucket of fresh food.
Yesterday I recall harvesting and examining the plants one by one as I pluck and as I resist, knowing God's timing and faithfulness will ripen those not yet ready. I water and harvest as I meet Zane the Coffman Cross Country Atheist turned Christian. He comes from Veritas to volunteer. My heart swells at the though of many churches coming together working along side each other.
Once the bucket is in the kitchen with me I open the windows inviting nature into the kitchen the cool summer breeze wafting in. I place my phone, set to the Avett Brothers Pandora channel, on the sill of the window above the sink as it begins to fill with cold water. I plunge the rainbow chard into the water washing each and every leaf. I feel the refreshing water and the beautifully green leaves. I am transported back into the kitchen of Moriah Pie in Norwood as I clean the leaves of the salad prior to serving.
Each leaf different. It is marvelous. I begin to cut the stems off counting 8 9 10 then rolling the stacks of ten slicing them into ribbons and splitting those ribbons. The tiny green clock reads 8:00 and the chard isn't even finished yet.
My shoulders begin to ache as my back is bent over the sink
washing
drying
cutting
slicing
splitting
stacking
Draining the sink I run my hands in the brown soil water. Filling the sink again I continue.
Next the lamb's quarters one by one I pluck the leaves and stack them in the strainer The music softly playing I imagine the faces of my brothers and sisters at the pantry. I recall them asking for more last week. I remember their compliments. I remember their smiles as they tried what I had prepared.
After the sink is drained again I reach into the bucket again to pull out what's left
beans
carrots
onions from Franklinton Gardens
mustard greens
acorn squash
zucchini
peppers
The meal is filling with color! I can smell the fresh vegetables on my fingers as I scoop them into the pile. Three months ago all of this every bit of it was nothing but a collection of tiny seeds. Here my counter top is covered with food that did not exist in any way three months ago. Six months ago the garden was a dead winter snow pile. But God is faithful. God did not worry nor was God surprised at the piles of food in my kitchen. I stood there shocked and laughing as I sang along to the music as my back hurt as the clock read 9:18.
How could I have known back in the fall during that work day that I would be here in Clintonville standing in my kitchen using knowledge I had learned from Franklinton Gardens and Norwood Ohio to prepare food for my friends at the pantry? How could I have guessed?
I use to never stay back in the kitchen on Monday nights now I see the beauty in preparing the food. As I think about the years I've spent in the Pantry I think about how I've come to love each and every part of it and the importance of every role.
I've stood and preached.
I've sat and ate
I've mopped and swept
I've set up tables
I've taken them down
I've cried beside brothers
I've laughed among sisters
and now for the first time I've experienced the beauty of cooking and watching those who are hungry eat what I have prepared.
I've watched the snow melt
I've watched the weeds get pulled
I've watched my friends push seeds into soil
I've watched God water them from the clouds
I've watched those seeds turn to plants turn to vegetables
I've harvested those vegetables
I've washed them
I've chopped them
and now here I stand as the stove heats up I begin to cook them.
Sauce
seasoning
spices
The sun is completely gone the only light is the pull chain bulb above the sink. The cool breeze has been replaced by the stoves heat. Stirring mixing the smell is fantastic!
My legs are tired of standing but my body pushing through to see this meal to completion. The coffee maker reads 10:30 at the moment I stretch the foil over the pan.
It is complete.
A free meal for my family at a high cost of time, energy, sweet, research, help, and so much more. But as I stand there thinking about the price I wouldn't have it any other way. Gandhi once said "be the change that you wish to see in the world.” I wish to see a world where everything is free where people work hard and give way the fruits of their labor. I wish to see a world where we help each other. I wish to see a world of natural tasty plants and food. I think about the world I wish to see. I think about the work put into this tiny amount of food and I think to myself "I wouldn't have it any other way" I want to freely give.
I think about this tiny tray of food and I see God standing next to me smiling asking what do we have and I respond "not much" and he sees what we have and with a beautiful smile and a laugh he speaks to my heart "I can make that work"
It is well with my soul. As I watch my brothers and sisters fill up on food I've prepared I realize I am being filled up. My heart is filled. My soul is satisfied.
I love God for many many reasons and one of them being this.
The Avett Brothers - January Wedding