The package of nasturtium seeds sat in my seed collection for several years before I realized they had long expired. But just in case any still held a spark of life, I planted them anyway. With their attractive heart-shaped leaves, jewel-toned flowers and peppery taste, nasturtiums make a tasty – if surprising – addition to salads.
I soaked the wizened pea-sized seeds in water for several nights, then nestled them all in a large pot of rich soil with enough added time-release fertilizer to last the summer.
Mere days later, I noticed a small awakening, a disturbance in the even surface of blackness. A collection of tiny spears pointing upward. The spears grew into stems, the stems grew leaves, and soon foliage filled the pot, spilling over the sides.
Every morning I lifted the leaves to search for buds. I coaxed and cajoled, but no flowers appeared.
I complained to my daughter one day – she who never needs a second invitation to research something online. She’d stopped by for only a moment, and had already gotten into her vehicle to leave. She said nothing, but pulled out her phone and sent her fingers darting. A minute later, she lifted her head. “It says here that nasturtiums do best in impoverished soil.”
“Really? REALLY? I never knew that. How can that be?”
She shrugged. “I dunno.” Having made her best contribution to my somewhat feeble gardening efforts, she shifted into reverse and took off.
I stared at the pot of leaves which I’d envisioned by now should have held a glorious splash of colour; a mass of blooms to brighten our front porch and garnish our salads. Shaking my head, I dragged it over to the foundation garden, which has rocky soil and never any fertilizer, and started transplanting.
Three days later, the nasturtiums looked nasty. Many of the previously healthy leaves had turned yellow. Some fell off when a series of severe storms battered the area.
I prepared to yank them all out on the weekend, but a surprise met me the next day. An orange blossom had climbed above the leaves, startling in its vibrancy. A day later, a red one joined it, then others, along with a new batch of healthy foliage.
The Russian government recently imposed stringent regulations on people of faith in that country. No person may share their faith with others outside of sanctioned facilities such as temples or churches. Telecom companies have been mandated to keep all communications for several months. The Draconian regulations are worse than those in place during the Iron Curtain era.
Though many Christians count this a tragedy, a look back brings hope. Global history has repeatedly proven that when oppressed and stifled, faith in Christ blooms most beautifully – and reproduces most abundantly. Just like my nasturtiums.
Russia needs our prayers. But so too, does the Church in in the rich and free West. We are growing, it seems, a magnificent pot of leaves.
