By Guest Contributor: Robin Grimes

Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. Genesis 1:29

Introduction

In Part 1, Robin invited us into the honesty of the garden — a place where the soil tells the truth and where God uses the land to shape the soul.

Today, she returns with a story that is not only practical and unforgettable, but profoundly biblical. Her green-bean vines became a classroom of the Holy Spirit, teaching her about timing, trust, and the futility of striving in her own strength.

I pray you feel the Lord’s gentle conviction and comfort through her words.

🌱 In God’s Good Time

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. Ecclesiastes 3:1

By Robin Grimes

There’s a story from my garden last year that I still carry with me — a story about green beans, impatience, and the perfection of God’s timing.

I had planted my beans with high hopes and careful attention. The vines grew beautifully — thick, lush, leafy, and full of promise. But that promise seemed hollow. Week after week they produced nothing.

According to the seed packet, they should have been full of beans by then.
In fact, everything should have been working.
But nothing was.

And like any impatient gardener (or impatient child of God), I went into problem‑solving mode.

I amended the soil.
I researched endlessly.
I stared at those vines as if I could will them into fruiting.

I exhausted myself trying to make something happen that simply was not ready to happen.

I finally concluded the seeds must have been bad.

So I made up my mind:
When I return from this eight‑day trip, I will rip them up and start over.

But when I returned — sunburned, tired, dusty, and already reaching for my garden gloves — I stopped in my tracks.

The vines were loaded with beans.

Not a few.
Not barely starting.
Covered.

In eight days of my absence —
out of my controlling influence,
beyond my analyzing,
outside of my striving —
the Lord had done what I could not.

They fruited when I let go.

They produced when I stopped hovering.

They yielded in God’s good time, not mine.

It humbled me.
It exposed me.
It revealed a self‑reliance I did not know I carried.

I had trusted more in:

• my knowledge
• my opinion
• my effort
• my timing

than in the God who brings forth fruit from the earth.

There is a rhythm to God’s work that my anxious heart wants to rush.
But I cannot rush what only God can grow.

Sometimes the greatest spiritual growth happens
when I stop digging my hands into everything
and trust Him to do the hidden work beneath the soil.

My green beans taught me this:

God is never late.
God is never idle.
God is never dependent on my striving.

He is quietly, faithfully bringing forth fruit
—in beans,
in orchards,
and in me—
exactly when He wills.

I am learning to rest in that.

— Robin

Closing Reflection — Pastor Dee

Robin’s experience echoes the parables of Jesus — seeds hidden, work unseen, growth happening under the surface while we sleep and rise, night and day (Mark 4:26–29).

Her green-bean vines preach this truth:
God’s timing is not slow. It’s perfect.
And His timing is often revealed most clearly in the things we cannot control.

As you read this today, maybe there is something in your own life:

• a prayer unanswered,
• a hope deferred,
• a child you’re waiting on,
• a dream that seems stagnant,
• a season that feels fruitless.

Take heart.
The God who brought beans in Robin’s absence is the same God who is working beneath the surface in you.

May this story help you loosen your grip, release your worry, and trust the One who brings fruit in His time — and never a moment too late.

Closing Prayer

Gracious Father,

We thank You for being the God who works beneath the surface when we cannot see, measure, or control what You are doing. Thank You for the seeds You plant, the soil You tend, and the fruit You bring forth in Your perfect time.

Forgive us for the moments when impatience replaces trust, when striving overshadows surrender, and when we believe our effort matters more than Your faithfulness. Teach us to loosen our grip on outcomes and rest our hope in You.

For every heart reading today who feels weary from waiting—
for the prayer that seems unanswered,
the season that feels barren,
the promise that appears delayed—
remind us that You are never late, never idle, and never dependent on our own strength.

Do Your quiet work in us, Lord.
Grow what only You can grow.
Bring forth fruit that lasts, not by our labor, but by Your grace.

Help us trust the hidden work of Your hands and rest in the truth that what You begin, You will surely complete—in our lives, in our families, and in Your time.

We receive Your peace today, and we wait with hope.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

🌿 PART 1 — Rooted Lessons

By Guest Contributor: Robin Grimes

(Introduction and closing reflection by Pastor Dee)

Introduction

Every so often, the Lord allows us to meet someone whose everyday life becomes a living parable of His goodness. My friend and sister in Christ, Robin Grimes, is that kind of gift.

Robin is a master gardener — not by title alone, but by heart. Her orchard, her soil, her compost, her flowers and vegetables… all of them preach sermons. And she shares these glimpses of God’s grace daily through videos and reflections that bless so many of us.

Today, I’m humbled to feature her writing.
May her testimony speak to your soul as deeply as it has spoken to mine.

🌱 Rooted: Reflections From My Garden and Orchard

By Robin Grimes

I’ve been thinking today about why gardening means so much to me.

I did not grow up a “rooted” child. My family moved frequently — Army life — and our home was fractured at best, with an absentee father who wasn’t interested in us even when he was there.

We lived in base housing, apartments, and trailer parks until I was ten. I never had a home or a yard to call my own.

I believe that has much to do with my grown-up desire to plant, tend, and harvest my own piece of ground.
And God, who always saw me and knew my heart, provided.

“Then the Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to tend and keep it.” — Genesis 2:15

He placed me on an acre and an eighth of stickers, weeds, and dirt — not a tree or shrub in sight! Who says God doesn’t have a sense of humor?

This was ground untouched by a woman’s or man’s hand. But of course, He created this very ground in the beginning — along with the good works He prepared for me to walk in.

As a child, I spent a lot of time lying about my circumstances. Being raised by wildly unhappy, eventually divorced parents carried a stigma, and I wanted to escape that shame.

But what I found about gardening is this:

🌾 Gardening is a truthful endeavor.

The soil itself tells the truth.
It was cursed with us at the fall,
and the work required to bring life from it
reminds me daily of my own sin nature.

I cannot hide my weakness from the garden.
I cannot pretend my laziness doesn’t exist.
My orchard and garden reflect exactly who I am
and what I do — or fail to do.

A garden cannot be managed by image.
An orchard cannot thrive on pretense.

Trees need timely, protective care.
Compost and fertilizer must be applied regularly.
Weeds must be pulled relentlessly.
“Friendly plants” must be placed close together so they can strengthen and protect each other.

The garden humbles me.
And it points me to the community of Christ — the church —
and to God alone, who brings forth fruit in ground and in people.

Last year, the Lord used my stubborn green beans to teach me about His timing — and my impatience. For two months, they were lush and green but fruitless. According to the seed packet, they should have been in full fruiting.

I exhausted myself researching ways to amend the soil. I tried everything. Nothing worked. I decided the seeds must have been bad and that I’d pull the vines up when I returned from an eight-day trip.

But when I came home…

🌿 They were loaded with beans.

In my absence —
out of my control —
in God’s perfect timing —
they produced.

It was a humbling revelation of my impatience
and my unrecognized self-reliance.
I had been trusting in my own wisdom and effort
instead of trusting the God who brings forth fruit in His time.

I am humbled by my garden daily.
And grateful.

May God be glorified in all we do.

— Robin

Closing Reflection

Robin’s story reminds us that God is still forming His people through the earth He made — through soil and seed, through waiting and weeding, through work and wonder.

Her orchard is a place of discipleship.
Her garden is a mirror of sanctification.
Her life is fruit born of God’s faithful tending.

May her words help you recognize the sacred lessons growing right where God has planted you.
And may you find, like she has, that the God who forms gardens still forms souls — with patience, truth, and immeasurable grace.

Heavenly Father,

Creator of soil and soul,
we thank You for the way You speak through what You have made.

Thank You for roots that grow unseen,
for lessons learned in waiting,
for truth revealed when we can no longer pretend.
Thank You for the holy work of tending — pulling weeds, amending soil,
trusting You when growth feels slow or absent.

Teach us to rest in Your timing
when our efforts feel fruitless.
Guard us from self-reliance,
and draw us back to the truth
that You alone bring forth life.

Where You have planted us,
form us.
Humble us.
Grow us.

May we live rooted in Christ,
connected to one another,
and faithful in the quiet work of obedience —
trusting that in due season,
You will cause fruit to appear.

We place our lives, our labor, and our longing
into Your faithful hands.
Be glorified in us.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.