One of the earliest, brightest signs that the long, cold, barren winter is about to give way to something more beautiful, is the blooming of the daffodil. More than being a harbinger of brighter days to come, I love this flower because it is an homage to a long forgotten past. Riding through the hills and backroads of Southern Middle Tennessee you will encounter remnants of homes and farms that have been swallowed up by nature and the past. Places that used to be vibrant and thriving with life — children in the yard, animals in the barn, crops in the field — have now collapsed into rotting and rusting piles of wood and tin, having been vacant for over half a century. As time moved on the world changed and the rural farm life that most families experienced prior to the mid-twentieth century, gave way to suburbs and city life. Little by little those old farm houses and barns succumbed to nature, and yet nature itself bears witness to the vibrant life that once inhabited those barren spaces. The book of Hebrews says of Adam's son Abel, "though he is long dead he still speaks" and the annual blooming of those daffodils demands that we take notice of the fact someone once lived and loved here and what they did lives on.
I love riding through the countryside and stumbling across the remnants of an old farm surrounded by hundreds of bright yellow petaled and green stemmed daffodils. Though they humbly bow their heads, as if in reverence to the life that once filled this now empty place, they stand tall and defiant, as if to remind us they need no gardener or landscaper to ensure their survival. For me, the sight of a dilapidated old house surrounded by blooming yellow flowers is a captivating contrast between life and death, past and present, what was and what is. Those flowers exist today because someone, long ago, planted them in their yard to add a splash of color and beauty, and yet, they still exist long after those people have themselves returned to the dust of the earth. Long ago, someone put a seed in the ground and generations later it continues to reproduce after its own kind.
In the Bible this is known as the seed principle, based upon statements from Genesis 1 and 8. “The land produced vegetation: plants bearing seed according to their kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good….While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease."
Why the history/botany/bible lesson? Because what is true of plants and flowers is also true in us. People come into our lives and plant seeds of themselves within our hearts — little pieces of them that help, heal, or sustain us, can in time begin to mold, shape, and influence us. Have you ever looked in the mirror and saw your mama? Do you ever hear words coming out of your mouth that sound like your daddy? I bet some of you treasure the recipe that enables you to make banana pudding just like your grandmother made it. These influences grow even more precious when those influencers are no longer present.
Though it’s unfair to list just one, arguably the most influential person in my life was my maternal grandmother, Big Mama. During the first thirteen years of my life I spent time with her almost every day, and when school was out, that was from 6:00 AM till after 3:00 PM. As a child I didn’t realize that the seeds of her selfless love and joy for feeding people were being sown in my heart, sending out strong, deep roots to bust up hardness and soak up goodness. Like the aforementioned daffodils, these things often lie dormant, enduring the harshness of cold and dark, awaiting a single moment of light and warmth to spur them to spring from their silent slumber. She’s been gone from us for two decades now, but the day I held my first grandchild the flower of her influence burst through the surface of my heart. Shortly after, I told Honey I wanted to make sure whenever my grandchildren think of me, be they eight or eighty, I want them to feel what I feel when I think of my Big Mama. Long after she’s gone, the seeds she planted in my heart, which have been watered often by the tears I’ve shed through missing her, continue to bear fruit after her kind.
Big Mama isn’t the only one who’s influenced me in a profound and lasting way. There are too many for me to mention in this one post, but there is another that simply must be mentioned, because her influence is quite literally the reason Home Grown Faith Farm exists.
Five years ago my mother in law Debbie was taken from us because of cancer, but there is no disease powerful enough to stop the seeds of influence she planted in our lives. For most of the twenty-six years I knew her, Debbie was a single mother. If you know any single mothers you know that the rules of life are different for them than for most other folks. They don’t have the luxury of being sick or tired or overworked or needing a day off because they are the only engine keeping their family moving. The single mothers I’ve known are the hardest workers I’ve known, and yet, somehow, they are often the deepest lovers and most generous givers too. This is the legacy Debbie left behind. During her years as the property manager for Tanglewood/Terrace Apartments, she didn’t just work a job, she cultivated a community. Debbie lived in the same Section 8 housing as her residents and she shared her life with everyone there who was willing to make space in the garden of their heart. Their children became her children. Their parents became her parents. No job was too big for her and no service was beneath her. Most of those children are adults today and many of them love her and grieve her absence as much as her biological family. One of the programs she started at Tanglewood was the Plant A Seed and Watch Me Grow community garden. For months she got children and elderly residents together after school to till the ground, sprout seedlings, weed the rows and harvest the vegetables. Many of the children had never witnessed how our food is produced and many of the older residents greatly missed the days of working a farm or garden.
When talking about generous people, we sometimes use the expression, “She would give you her last dollar.” With Debbie this wasn’t just an expression, I’ve seen her do it literally more times than I can recall, and often despite our protests. Everything she had she gave to her community. “Truly I say to you that this poor woman has put in more than all; for all these out of their abundance have put in offerings for God, but she out of her poverty put in all the livelihood that she had.” Here’s the thing, I didn’t know it at the time, but in those moments when she was giving someone the last dollar she had, and we were telling her she needed to take care of herself, she was actually sowing seeds in our hearts. “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” Some seeds are so tiny, like Jesus described a mustard seed, that you don’t even notice them….until they are watered…until they begin to send out roots…until they erupt through the surface…until they begin to bear fruit. “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches.” Sometimes it takes years of watering those seeds with your tears before they begin to make their appearance, but when they do, it’s beautiful and live giving.
For me and Honey, Home Grown Faith Farms is our way of reproducing after the kind of fruit that has fed us throughout our lives, having been planted in our hearts by dozens of people we love and admire. Many of them are no longer physically present with us, but as long as the earth stands, seedtime and harvest will continue, and their influence will live on in us, our children, our grandchildren, and the community we seek to serve in their honor.
No doubt you have people like this in your life that you’d like to remember and honor. As part of this ministry, we are creating an Adopt a Plant program. We will list how much it costs to plant and sustain an individual plant, a planter box, or a row and you can “adopt” one in honor or remembrance of someone who planted seeds in your heart that produced these cherished values — generosity, hard work, sacrifice, love, beauty, faith, resilience, compassion, kindness, peace, joy, patience — in your life. This is a way for you to give and give back and continue to share what was planted in you by the people who helped you grow into who you are today. We will document your donation through pictures of the progress of these adoptions as they grow and mature and bear fruit, all the way to their delivery destination, along with any stories and photos you’d like to share of the people you are honoring. If you live nearby we’d love to have you come on site and visit, cultivate, harvest, and deliver from your plant(s).
Who is your Debbie or Big Mama? Who do you want to honor and celebrate? You may be in the season of grieving and missing them today, but watching seeds sprout and grow as a symbol of their continued impact on your life is a powerful reminder that brighter days are coming. “Weeping may stay for the night, but joy comes in the morning.”
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