God, Patience and Homegrown Vegetables
My wife Jolynne took three months to prepare last night’s dinner.
Only recent locavores, we moved to a small farmhouse last November and are just scratching the surface of the land’s potential. Most of the acreage is a playground for the dog, goats and an ailing old pony named Honey.
But the plot right outside the kitchen window is our vegetable garden. My wife is growing organic tomatoes, zucchini, strawberries, peas, corn, lettuce and a solitary, misshapen green pepper.
Last night we had our first zucchinis, sliced and boiled. To suburban palates like mine, trained on Stater Bros produce, homegrown vegetables are a revelation. Neither the zucchini nor tomatoes need any seasoning at all. And although I’m not a big fan of strawberries, the comparatively small berries Jolynne has grown are the best I’ve ever tasted.
My kids said thank you to my wife for cooking dinner, probably after my obligatory prompting. I added a thank you to God, ‘for helping Mom with dinner’. Jolynne laughed at that. Having spent all that time in the garden, she knew that she herself had no power to materialize ears of corn. (Eight so far!)
What Jolynne did bring to the table (so to speak) is a vital ingredient…it’s going to be very hard to avoid culinary metaphors isn’t it?…that I have always known was important but am only beginning to understand how central it is to a good life.
It can go by the name of patience. Or, it could go by the name of availability. The virtue of creating space. There’s the hint of passivity in it, a humility to acknowledge that the best we can do is be ready for good rather than chase or manufacture it.
But anyone who’s tried to clear their schedule for daily meditation, date night or even simply a home-cooked meal knows that creating space in your life takes an effort that is endangered and nearly extinct in our culture. The life of the spirit, family relationships…even activites as vital as breathing or eating are losing the time lottery.
Central to the idea that life is a gift is the idea that you must be willing to receive. The person who accepts the most gifts is the person with the skills of waiting, listening, stopping. staring, weeding, watering.
The green pepper in our garden is never going to be as bright, as big or as shiny as the one from the grocery store. We could have bought a bazillion bell peppers in the time it’s taking to grow this one that doesn’t in any way resemble a bell.
But one day I will sit down and eat a salad topped with the world’s greatest bell pepper. I will say thank you to the woman who created space in her life to receive such a gift, and thank you to the Giver of all good gifts.
And I will say a prayer that I can patiently cultivate the sort of life where every strawberry tastes amazing, every stranger finds a friend, and every moment is ripe with unexpected gifts.
Congrats to the new Farmer on her beautiful achievements. I also started a small garden this year in Gilbert, AZ. It’s been challenging. My corn didn’t make it, but the onions, tomatoes and sunflowers are doing great. I have killed off our squash plants twice, but then trying to get enough water to these poor plants out here is the key. I too, have one struggling bell pepper that is supposed to be red, but is small, green and sun-burnt! I was touched by your way of appreciating your amazing wife and the time she has made in her life, and in your own as well. I have had similar thoughts in my heart for a while, about not wasting the time I do have. Especially with my own 4 kids. Thank you for the article. Pass on a hello from the Herbert Family to Jolynn.
Jenny Herbert (Jason’s wife from HOPE)
[...] But even though we need the low prices, we will be growing our own veggies. [...]