The patch, as I call it, is a wonderful place to be. It provides me with the space to reflect and pray. When I am there I capture something of the rhythms of God’s grace and in a way similar to the lectionary, the patch follows seasons. The patch cannot simply be left unattended. If it was it would cease to be a patch. It would be ground, dirt, space. The patch requires seasons of preparation and work; digging, tiling, composting and spreading the manure. It requires seasons for planting and sowing in which seedlings begin their new life. But most importantly the patch requires that I tend to it and and wait. For the most part there is a great expanse between sowing and reaping. In many ways it is a lot like being a pastor…
Our suburban vegie patch has become a place of Sabbath for my family and me. As I type this my wife is out there, thinking, praying and listening. As she checks the seedlings and pulls the weeds she walks with God “in the cool of the eve”. I call it the parson’s patch. It is a place in which I walk with God. I reflect upon the Christian life, my vocation as pastor, my role as husband and father and any trouble or concern I might have. I won’t lie to you either, many a sermon outline has been discovered while digging and tending. It is a sacred space in which I give things to God and occasionally he requires things of me.
Do you have a patch somewhere? Do you have a place in which you walk with God, a space free of distractions and noise in which you can hear his voice? If not may I encourage you to find such a place. It’s a good place to ‘be’.
