FIRMLY PLANTED ◽ ENCOURAGEMENT
The last two months of summer, August and September, were brutally hot. Even October was uncomfortably warm. Sustained temperatures over 100° require special coping skills, for both people and plants.
One of my coping skills is to get wet. When nights are 80°, the stock tank pool stays warm enough for me, no heater needed. It’s quite refreshing, cooling me off for hours. Summers are tolerable, even enjoyable, to a degree. Other ways I cope are doing errands and outside chores in the morning (often after a nice soak); staying out of the heat (thanking God profusely for air conditioning); and wearing cool cotton dresses as much as possible
I often think of the people who have to work outside in the heat. I pray for them in their long-sleeved shirts and protective clothing. How do they do it? I wonder. They are much hardier than I. And then there are those who choose the hottest time of day to jog down a busy street, heat radiating off the asphalt. I can’t help feeling a little judge-y about their choice. Why?... didn’t your momma tell you it’s bad for you? I don’t understand.
But when it comes to 100° temps, the effect on my garden is personal. According to one Master Gardener website, plants do best between 56°-86°. Gardening in Texas is very challenging because of the extremes on both ends. One year, I had to shade most of my garden with sheets strung up creatively to keep everything alive.
Fortunately, this past summer wasn’t as bad as that. But it was bad enough—intense heat combined with no moisture literally sucks the life right out of flesh, whether it be plant, animal, or human.
This is what I call “outer heat,” and plants have several ways to cope with it: edges of the leaf will dry up, allowing most of the leaf to function; a plant will wilt as a defense mechanism that reduces sun exposure and conserves water (there are other reasons for wilting that bear looking into); dormancy is a natural resting phase where plants slow down or drop their leaves to survive intense heat and dry conditions. Many plants don’t bloom in the intense heat. Basically, plants naturally retreat and “keep it simple” to survive.
There is wisdom here, says my muse in the garden. Thinking back to times when I was under extreme pressure, I remember the feeling of stress. I call it “inner heat.” If you’re human, you’ve probably had at least one experience of this “inner heat.” Pressure seems to come from outside, but the internal struggle, confusion, despair, anxiety, and pain settle right in the middle of my being. Pressure from the “outside” might be coping with loss, a difficult person, financial stress, an impossible situation. These are normal tribulations of life; but sometimes they go above and beyond and feel like walking through the fire. It’s hard to sleep, eat, think.
Like my plants suffering from heat stress, I found the way to survive “walking through the fire” is to keep it simple. For me, that means to eliminate what is unnecessary: commitments, social engagements, shopping and such. Lowering expectations of myself and others removes an unnecessary burden. Eat light—sometimes smoothies and liquids are all a knotted-up stomach can take. Allow into my life only that which is true and good: guarding what I read, watch, and hear.
One particular trial by fire I went through led me to listen to nothing but Christian music, which wasn’t my music of choice at the time. The lyrics helped me focus on the reality of God, the truth of the Word, the possibility of hope, and the bigger picture. I began to embrace that inner heat as I realized it was God’s furnace to burn off some stuff; transformation isn’t easy. The only way to survive (so to speak) was to lean on Jesus, to throw myself upon him and surrender. Why does it often take extreme pressure (that feels like inner heat) for us to do that? I’m not sure, but you’ve heard the saying “no pressure, no diamond?” Pressure can be his refining tool.
God is surely at work all the time. If you’re feeling especially “hot,” just know God is shaping a diamond.