Every August, there comes a week when I do a slow spin in my kitchen, fighting back panic, because I don't know what to do first. Garden bounty lurks from every corner, threatening to rot if I don't deal with it immediately. I stuff green beans in the fridge for tomorrow, watch the dance of the fruit flies, pull another batch of peaches out of the canner, and wonder if I have time to pick sweet corn for supper.
Ahhh...August abundance.
All year I look forward to this bounty, this feast of flavors. In February I daydream of meals with sliced tomatoes, fresh peaches, buttery green beans, and salty corn-on-the-cob. I could become a vegetarian in August. I love this month with the ping of sealed jars, a the picnic table laden with ripened tomatoes, and that first slice of fresh peach pie.
But... I'm tired. I need three extra hours each day. I must wear flipflops in my kitchen lest my toes stick on the grimy floor.
If all I had to do was keep up with my garden, I'd be fine. My garden is smaller than my mom's garden, and likely smaller than my grandmother's garden. But, as a friend said, "I'm trying to garden and can food like my grandmother, but keep the modern social schedule. And I can't do both."
That day that I did a slow spin in my kitchen? Somehow I had also signed up to take food to the Rescue Mission AND I was scheduled to teach the Ladies Bible study at the detention center. Terrible planning on my part, but this is August, and somehow these crazy conflicts are common. I chop tomatoes and plan a camping weekend. I pick up a bushel of peaches and pick up my daughters' friend to spend the afternoon playing in the creek.
In the middle of the August craziness, I listened to a podcast interview and heard the words "God is the God of infinite abundance."
Those words have circled my mind as I stirred pots.
I thought of August - this overfilled, overbooked, overladen month. This month of abundance.
August is crazy because it rained and rained and rained and the garden is lush, and my tomatoes never looked so nice.
August is crazy because I live in a community that values outreach and service, and I love sharing in this community.
August is crazy because my home is full of children who eat food and wear clothes and have needs.
August is crazy because we have friends who offer invitations, laughter, and connection.
August is crazy because I have been given much, so very very much, but I don't always have a perspective of abundance - of God's gift of infinite abundance. I could live in a place of famine, not knowing what I would feed my children. I could live in a place of loneliness, without people to feed, and love. But instead I often feel that I have too much.
So the last few weeks I've tried to quit listening to the lie that August is too much. Because I want, I need, I desire God's abundance. I want to view August abundance as a picture of God's abundance.
Yes, weeds too thrive in the August rain. And there are hard things in August. I'll always fight to find God's truth, goodness, and beauty because frustration, fears, and pride crop up to consume my time and mind as fast as weeds emerge in my green beans.
I want new eyes to see. I want wisdom to discern the ways I've distorted His abundance. I want courage to choose abundance, even if that means leaving the tomatoes to rot to sit by the creek and journal a gratitude list. Or invite a friend over for conversation, even if they may stick to my kitchen floor.
Because God is a God of infinite abundance.
Now unto Him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, unto Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen. Ephesians 3:20-21
This was mostly written while sitting by the creek watching my girls play with their friends while ignoring my garden and my kitchen floor.
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