Lonely Little Tomato Plant

It was almost hidden amongst the tall grasses of the meadow across from our side yard.  "Well, would you look at that," my neighbor exclaimed.  Pulling aside the meadow grass, he pointed to a well formed tomato plant.  He grinned and said, "Go get me a shovel and I'll move it to your garden."  He helped me gently place the plant in its new home.  The next day, after a light rain, it was standing tall, a promise of ripe red tomatoes to harvest!

My neighbor's grin and the tears in my eyes, would have told any passer-by that this was no ordinary tomato plant!  It was like God's special "little" blessing, His amazing tender touch to my heart that day.  It was like a sweet small whisper to my soul, "I know all your needs."  It was a demonstration of My Father's loving mercies in my personal life.  My neighbor had looked in amazement at the healthy plant, so out of place in the overgrown field.  "Someone must have tossed a tomato, or piece of a sandwich out the window as they drove by, and a seed took root - That is really something!"

Yes, it WAS really something!  But much more than a freak of chance to me, that little plant showed me my Father's care and knowledge of my life.  Months before, in the earliest days of spring, I had planted tomato seeds in soil filled trays which I placed in a sunny window.  Every day I checked their growth.  They were the Father’s promise of my garden to be, in my new home in the country.  A garden still made of dreams and drawings on my notepad.  The new little church my husband and I had planted in the nearby town could not yet afford to "fully support" their pastor and I knew a garden would help with the grocery bills.  But the garden was more than necessity to me, it was part of a dream, a desire.  With me, a home had always meant family, love, security, shelter and a garden!  This was to be our first "real" home after years of missionary service.  The garden would be a promise to myself as I worked to build a home for my family.

In mid-spring, a persistent pain told me that something was wrong inside of my body.  God’s gracious warning signals were all sounding.  The week before we had planned to start the garden outdoors, I was having surgery.  The land lay unplowed and sometime during the days in the hospital, the little plants in the window sill had withered and died.  Everyone counseled that I should not attempt a garden that Spring.  With a calm acceptance I agreed, though in the silent, secret place of my heart there was a dull ache.  Then one morning, I looked outside to see my husband working far from the house, right where we had planned to have the garden.  I went out to investigate.  My husband smiled and greeted my questioning look with the answer, "I'm going to dig you a garden anyway!"  No matter that it was weeks too late for the older farmers.  No matter that we had no money for fertilizer, we were planting a garden!  I went back into the house and found the seed packages. choosing only vegetables that would beat the Fall harvest deadline, I quickly drew a new planting chart.  No matter that some would wait until next year, they could be the promise of an even bigger garden.  And in the original corner where the tomato plants were to have gone, we could plant a second crop of spinach.  We planted all but the last row that day.  The next morning it poured the warm rain of June that helps little plants to grow.  It was four days later when my neighbor found the lonely little tomato.

Across the road, a man on a tractor has been working for several hours, cutting dawn the tall grass nearest to the road. cutting down the area where the plant had stood yesterday.  Yesterday was the last chance for that plant.  It shouldn't surprise me to see one more example of God's care.

Months before I had known my need, somehow, part of a tomato had fallen by the roadside, just far enough off the road that it fell hidden amongst the thick grasses.  Maybe it was from the lunch of the workers who laid the new water mains.  The tomato decayed and fell through the grasses.  Insects may have carried off the rest of the debris, but it would only take one little seed for my plant to grow.  The snows of winter pushed it deeper into the soil.  There, amid the tangle of the meadow grass, the little sprout shot up early in the Spring, just about the time I first felt the pain in my side.  It's stem grew thicker and stronger and it kept pushing its way toward the sun.  As the grasses grew all around, they stared to part just a little to allow the plant to flourish.  And just that week, while I was recovering, it started to set its little buds, tomatoes in the process of meeting a promise.  Even before I knew the need, God was gently preparing the answer, just across the road, hidden in the grasses.

It reminded me of something else we were growing that year, a little congregation, newly planted in straight rows on Sunday morning.  Some of that group were mature, well rooted and firmly planted Christians.  Others were new little plants, newly transplanted into the sunlight of God's love, reaching to draw nourishment from the rivers of water that flowed forth from every sermon from the Word of God.  Our plans for the church had been mapped out in our minds and on paper.  We had dreamed and planned.  The promise of a harvest was in our hearts.  Many things had happened to delay the growth, and progress seemed so much slower than we had planned.  In our hearts there was an ache.  Then the reminder of the little tomato plant.  Somewhere, out on the highways and byways of our area, there had to be many little sprouts, maybe just little ungerminated "seeds" of promise, that were waiting to be transplanted by the Father's gentle guidance into the garden of His church.  We had just to walk the pathways in His Light and look for those souls.  Even if they are hidden in the tall "weeds" of the world, with God's help, the weeds could be parted to allow us to see the blossom of a life.  God had given the dream of the church, He could give the harvest.  He just expected us to work for Him to bring those by the wayside into His fold.

All through my Christian life, God has given me the little gentle blessings that encouraged my heart, or rebuked my discouragement.  The unexpected and anonymous bag of groceries left on our doorstep in seminary, when we did not know where the next meal would come from, had reminded me that God knew our needs.  The list could go on and on: the sweet hug and moist kiss of my little girl in the midst of a trying day, the one soul to come to the altar after a long week of Vacation Bible School, the gift of material from a lady in the church who knew I wanted to make my grandchildren Christmas gifts.  God's loving reminders to me that He knows my heart's needs and desires.  His "little" but persistent statements of care, things only God would know and only God could order and control to encourage the dreams of promise.

The rain that was falling earlier today has stopped and the sun is shining through the clouds.  I think I will take a walk out to my garden and check on the tomato plant.  While I go, I'll pray that God will replace the ache for the church with a fire in my bones and an excitement in my spirit to see the hidden little plants by the wayside join our straight rows on Sunday morning!  I'll also ask His help in remembering not to miss His little blessings that speak so lovingly to my heart, even in the midst of trial.