Come Away With Me: Volunteer Potatoes
Laura Miller
October 16, 2024
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Welcome back to our Come Away With Me series! These are short blogs that create little spaces where you can ‘come away’ in the midst of your day, to breathe a little slower, think a little deeper, and rest a little more in God’s presence.
This time I am delighted to share this reflection on ‘Volunteer Potatoes’ from Laura Miller of the Sanctuary First community. I won’t explain what a volunteer potato actually is (as Laura is about to do so) but as soon as Laura explained the concept to me in passing after a Sunday Live service it sparked my imagination and has lived rent free in my brain! I simply had to ask her to tell us more about it.
So I am very chuffed to hand over now to Laura, who takes us to the garden to show us more of God’s goodness.
James Cathcart
Come Away With Me: Volunteer Potatoes
A garden is a great place to seek reminders of God's provision. Tied tight into the DNA of each plant are whispers of parables, tendrils of hope.
Here is one of my favourite plant stories.
Did you know that once you pull a potato plant out of the ground, and remove the potatoes, there will always be a few small stragglers left behind?
Over winter these forgotten gems lie dormant in the ground. Come spring, they awaken and begin to thrust up leaves and shove down roots, ready to form the next crop.
It is as if these new plants have appeared from nowhere. Despite no human hand sowing new seed potatoes into the ground, a fresh batch has appeared.
In the depths of the dusty earth, an untended harvest is provided.
Potato pearls blossom like a miracle.
Gardeners like to call surprise plants like these 'volunteers'. When buying new seeds can be expensive, it can be a relief to stumble across a volunteer aiding the growth of fresh food.
Food that is fragrant with the love and care of the Creator who supplied it.
So, what are these dormant seeds?
These hidden gems?
Are they long lost prayers that spilled out of an empty pocket?
Were they shards that broke away from a once perfect fellowship?
Did the wind hurl them into the earth after the storm of divorce? Or the loss of a home? Or the tarnish of empty cupboards long after payday?
In the book of Lamentations, we read of the horrors of famine, the shame of exile and the brokenness of a relationship between God and His people. Hunger and destruction are forged into poetry. They are formed into desolate cries. This is an unrelenting reminder of the depths of despair that humanity wrestles with. Hearts that are weeping pour onto each page. Is there any hope remaining in the dust of destruction?
Hidden in this tear stained book, in amongst hurt and struggle, a promise cries out:
'His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him.'
This promise lies dormant in between the layers of darkness. It is a shout of worship that survives and sustains.
When the harvest has been eaten and when the ground looks empty, no one would suspect that it contains the next season's meal.
Great is your faithfulness.
The Lord is my portion.
I will wait for him.
Laura Miller
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