The Great Outdoors
At the beginning of April, Banks and I planted red potatoes and onions in the garden. I can’t remember the exact kind of red potato, but I do remember the onions—Vidalias. Sweet and mild, they’re the marquee name in onions. We planted those potatoes and onions in the same garden spot our family has always used. Every homestead in the countryside has one. It might not get used every year, but the dirt always waits in the same place because it’s good dirt. Fertile ground.
That morning was crisp, maybe 50 degrees. Banks and I both wore long sleeves against the early spring chill. But as the sun climbed and warmed the day, we both started thinking about shedding layers. The garden rows were long and straight- maybe 100 feet- and they would produce more than we could eat on our own. I showed Banks how to plant a potato: stick two fingers down into the soil, drop the potato piece in, and cover it back up. But her fingers weren’t quite big enough. “Daddy, the hole is too small for the potato to fit in,” she said. I grinned and went looking for a stick. “A good stick will fix almost any problem,” I said, handing one to her. She raised an eyebrow and said, “I can’t get this stick to fix your bad jokes.” Her grin was contagious. I playfully shoved her shoulder and sent her rolling into the soft dirt. Laughter broke out, and so did a brief tickle fight, until she yelled, “I’m France!”- our house code for “I surrender.” That dirt was soft and rich. I grabbed a handful, letting it trickle through my fingers. “Isn’t it interesting that God chose dirt to grow things?” I asked. “It’s not pretty or flashy. But it’s where life starts.” Banks pondered it. “I guess He can do whatever He wants.” I responded, “Yes, He can. But why dirt?” She shrugged. I continued, “Maybe it’s because everything has a purpose. Can trees do this? Can concrete? What about sand?” She shook her head each time. Then I asked, “What is it that God wants you to do, that only you can do?” Without missing a beat, she smiled and said, “Plant potatoes.” I laughed out loud.
After the potatoes, we moved on to onions. She gently pulled the thread-like sprouts apart and dropped each into a finger-deep hole, green end up. Over the next few weeks, we returned a few times to fertilize. One day, Banks asked, “If God made the dirt so good, why do we have to add fertilizer?” Her question made me pause. “The fertilizer isn’t for the dirt. It’s for the plants. The dirt is doing its job. The plants just need a little help. Like us- we have the Bible, our ‘good dirt.’ But we still go to church. Not because the Bible needs help, but because we do.” She thought for a second. “So, prayers are like rain?” I smiled. “Answered prayers are like rain,” I said. This past weekend, we began digging the potatoes. She marveled at how potatoes grow underground, not on the stalk. It reminded me of an old story Hannah’s Uncle Pickens loved to tell about a Yankee farmer who didn’t think his peanut plants had produced. He was ready to sue the seed dealer until Pickens pulled a plant from the ground, revealing peanuts hanging from the roots like ornaments. The man had just never looked beneath the dirt. Banks loved that story. As she pulled up another potato, she said, “I guess that man just didn’t know what was under all that good dirt.” “I guess not,” I replied. As she scooped up another handful and let the soil run between her fingers, she smiled and said, “It’s good dirt, isn’t it?” “Yes, it is, baby girl. Yes, it is.” And the soil- like the lessons buried within it- was rich indeed. “Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up, grew and produced a crop, some multiplying thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times.” Mark 4:8
-Walt Merrell
A Christian Outdoorsman who writes of his adventures with his family, with the hope that others might be inspired and encouraged to embrace God’s tapestry, otherwise known as the great outdoors, as a means of finding Common Ground. You can follow him at Shepherding Outdoors on FB, YT and IG and at shepherdingoutdoors.com. His most recent book is available at shepherdingbook.com. Read his faith story at www.BirminghamChristian.com.
