I Don’t Have a Garden. I Do, However, Have Seeds.

I finally found some time to get around the 'She Shed Project'... Make it functional and a place of peace and production! 

In the time spent in my shed, I found a ridiculous number of seed packets while cleaning out boxes, bags, and bins.

Not a ridiculous amount in the way a real gardener might define ridiculous.

A ridiculous amount for someone who does not currently have a garden. 

There were flowers, vegetables, herbs....

Things I bought because they were 89 cents.

Things I bought because I liked the picture on the front.

Things I apparently bought because somewhere deep inside me lives a woman who wakes up early, weeds cheerfully, knows exactly when to plant tomatoes, and probably owns a greenhouse.

I like her.

I am just not entirely sure she exists.

As I sat there sorting seed packets during the She Shed Project, I realized something.

I do not think I buy seeds because I am deeply committed to gardening.

I think I buy them because I like what the envelope represents.

Possibility.

Potential.

A little paper packet that says:

You could grow this.

Maybe next spring.

Maybe when things calm down.

Maybe when the garden beds are ready.

Maybe when Future Amy has more time.

And for 89 cents, apparently I am willing to invest pretty heavily in the fantasy. 😂

But a packet of seeds is not a garden.

It is only potential.

And potential can sit on a shelf for a very long time looking productive without ever producing anything.

That thought stopped me in my tracks because in the midst of the project, I have been thinking about envelopes in another way too! Some of the seniors in my youth ministry and family are starting to receive college acceptance letters.

Another little envelope carrying enormous possibility.

A whole future represented by one piece of paper.

But even that potential does not become a life simply because the letter arrived.

They still have to decide.

Accept.

Go.

Show up.

Study.

Build something with the opportunity they were given.

An acceptance letter can sit in an envelope just like a seed packet can sit in a drawer — full of possibility, but still waiting on someone to do something with it.

Potential requires participation.

And Scripture uses seeds constantly.

Things are planted.

Things grow.

Things bear fruit.

Seeds die.

Harvests come.

But the seed has to leave the packet.

Jesus said:

“Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”
— John 12:24

Sitting safely in the envelope, the seed remains exactly what it was.

Potential.

Protected.

Unused.

Unfruitful.

It may hold everything necessary to become something beautiful.

But holding potential and producing fruit are not the same thing.

And suddenly these thoughts are not about gardening anymore.

I can collect potential in a lot of areas of my life.

Ideas.

Books.

Supplies.

Courses.

Projects.

Plans.

Things I might create.

Things I might sell.

Things I might learn.

Things I might someday become.

And none of those things are bad.

Dreaming is not bad.

Planning is not bad.

Preparing for the future is not bad.

But at some point, I have to ask whether I am cultivating what God has actually put in front of me… or just collecting possibilities for versions of myself I may never become.

That feels especially important right now.

Because I already have work God has given me.

I have a family.

I have ministry.

I have writing.

I have teenagers who still need me.

I have a husband.

I have a home.

I have sheep.

I have people to disciple.

I have messages to prepare.

I have a blog to write.

I have creative work that is already bearing fruit.

And yet I can still become fascinated by the next thing.

The next idea.

The next possibility.

The next little packet of potential.

Maybe I will garden.

Maybe I will learn this.

Maybe I will write a book.

Maybe I will start something new.

And meanwhile, there are already things growing in the ground God gave me.

That is where stewardship comes in. Stewardship is not just about money.

It is also about time. Attention. Energy. Capacity. Calling.

Jesus tells a story in Matthew 25 about servants entrusted with different amounts.

The issue was not that everyone had the same resources.

The issue was what they did with what they had been given.

And I wonder sometimes whether I am so distracted collecting things I could do that I fail to fully tend the things I have already been entrusted to do.

That does not mean I can never plant a garden.

It does not mean I should throw away every dream that is not happening today.

But it may mean I need to be more honest about the difference between a calling and a possibility.

Between preparation and accumulation.

Between something I am actively cultivating and something I simply like imagining.

There is a line in Ecclesiastes that says:

“Whoever watches the wind will not plant; whoever looks at the clouds will not reap.”
— Ecclesiastes 11:4

At some point, something has to go in the ground.

We cannot live forever in the planning stage.

We cannot keep holding the seed and calling it a harvest.

That may be what the She Shed Project is teaching me. I do not need to preserve every possibility. But I do need to protect the space necessary to faithfully cultivate what God has actually given me to grow.

If I want a garden someday, then someday I need to plant one.

Not just own seeds. Not just save seeds.

Not just organize seeds into a prettier container labeled “SEEDS.”

Actually plant them, water them, and actually make room in my life for the work of tending them.

Because my future fruit depends on my present faithfulness.

So before I buy another 89-cent envelope of possibility or invest in another opportunity, naybe I need to ask myself, "Do I actually want to grow this? Or do I just like the idea of being someone who could?"

There is a difference and in a fruitful and busy season, God is teaching me to pay attention to it. He has already planted things in my life.

Real things.

Living things.

Things that need tending now.

And I do not want to neglect the garden He has already entrusted to me because I am too busy collecting seeds for one that only exists in my imagination.

What possibility have you been collecting that God may be asking you either to plant — or finally release?

Lord, help me recognize the difference between potential and fruitfulness. Give me wisdom to steward the time, money, energy, and calling You have already placed in my hands. Show me what needs to be planted, what needs to be tended, and what I can release without guilt. Keep me faithful to the ground You have actually given me, and let the things You have planted in my life bear fruit for Your glory. Amen.

Until next time, keep following the Plott, and I will be praying for us all. 💛