In early February, I usually start some tomato seedlings. I think I wrote about this just a a few weeks ago.
I start with a bank of 72 peat disks, with a seed (or sometimes two seeds, if I’m paranoid) in each one. Then I plant them in larger pots and try to nurse them through the Spring, hoping to end up with a dozen healthy plants. I’m basically betting that I can keep a few plants alive until I put them in the ground around Memorial Day.
Since I start with 72, I can afford to lose or give away five plants for every one I keep. By the time I plant them in my raised-bed gardens, I have selected only the strongest, hardiest plants with (I hope) the best chance for producing a plentiful harvest.
Children are not quite the same as tomatoes, in spite of what our culture would say or do. Whatever children you get, those are the ones you plant, and those are the ones that will ultimately produce a harvest for the King. If you start with five ‘seedlings’ (as I have), you’d better do the best you can to make sure they become strong, healthy adults.
A few days ago I noticed that the peat disks on the edges were dry, and that I have lost a number of my seedlings. Also, I kept the greenhouse lid on too long, and a number of the plants have grown too tall for the container, and are now lying across other plants. Already I think I’ve lost about half my seedlings through carelessness and inattention.
Parenting is not for the faint of heart. My inattention to my children could have terrible repercussions. Playing the odds is not an option with my beloved offspring — I’m not willing to ‘lose’ even one.
It makes me think. I sure hope I can parent better than I tomato-farm.
Project 365, Day 78
Tim
Amen! It would be so much easier if parenting were as clear-cut as growing tomatoes. But I can’t even grow tomatoes! Yikes. Hmmm… is this where faith, where reliance on the grace and mercy and power of God come in?
Good luck on those tomatoes!