All People Are Like Grass

 For, “All people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord endures forever.” And this is the word that was preached to you. (I Peter 1:24-25)

            There was a time when I thought I could take on the world. Later, I was able to jog 6.5 miles and get a lot done. Now I cheer if I add a thousand feet to the pitiful walk I take with the dog and feel like I need a nap. And my body isn’t the worst of it.

I have a 7-point outline for my prayer time. It’s easy. I want to pray for the Church, the family, the communities of which I’m part, the authorities over those communities, my enemies, various people who need prayer, and myself. I can’t get through any of those without my thoughts wandering off. I’ll grant you, when there’s a crisis in one of them, I’m a little better, but even that diminishes over time.            

I’m trying to build a magnificent garden that, at my best, I seem able to achieve only a flop waiting to happen level.

All of this does produce whining on my part regularly, but at the moment, it’s just examples of how “like grass” and “like the flowers of the field” my life is. Strength, consistency, endurance, interest, and perseverance are here and gone again or pleasant memories.

No, I’m not looking for praise. I’m verifying that today’s passage is true. We live and die. At best, our strength comes and goes. But something I’ve noticed in my gardening. I have plants that only bloom in the spring or maybe spring and fall. In between, they look terrible. Other plants bloom and fruit in the summer and/or fall but die back in the winter. I have plants whose flowers last less than 12 hours. Some of my plants can’t be outside all year. I have some plants that aren’t meant to last longer than one summer, because my whole purpose in planting them was to “hold space” until another plant spread to take their places. The harvest I got from several of my plants was disappointing.

Yes, I have been disappointed with my garden. Sometimes, I wonder why I bother. But I’m mulching the beds I’ve cleared for the winter. I’m planning next year’s garden. I’ve even planted some onions and intend to plant garlic this week. I’ve collected some seeds I hope will sprout. Every year I plan to plant, whether it’s just three tomatoes (decades ago) or thirty beds, a bunch of containers, and some bushes.

I can say pretty much the same thing about every project I’ve taken on. I get started with hopes of glory, but quickly reach the point where I wonder why I bother. It’s all wrong. I’ve made too many mistakes. And then when it’s done, I discover that it’s not as bad as I thought, and it has value to me if to no one else. I find delight in it, even if it’s flawed, and if only for a short time.

Today’s passage says that we’re like grass and flowers – they take time and effort and often don’t seem worth them. As someone has said on social media, we spent $300 to get a single tomato. Then, for a minute, an evening, or a few weeks, they are glorious. Then we have to deadhead, weed, and work for diminishing returns until we mulch them or tear them out in preparation for winter.

And the point is that just as gardeners understand that all the work produces a short burst of glory (or food), God understands that we’re not capable of much. However, He still puts in the time and effort, planting, watering, feeding, weeding, mulching, and even sheltering – for the flower that shows up once for a few hours, and produces perhaps one seed before we die back for the year.