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Mr Rotavator
Meeting and witnessing to non-Christians on an allotment
One of the problems with being 40, fat and faithful (well, trying to be anyway) is that it gets more and more difficult to meet non-Christians.
I work in a Christian company, my old friends have either been converted, or scared off, and middle age brings with it an upsurge in responsibilities at church which seem to dominate our social life.
My wife is luckier. Having two newish children means that she gets to meet and spend time with lots of non-Christian women: the post-natal group, various creches and playgroups and at the school gate. But when I'm not locked up at work, I'm either feeding, bathing, playing with the kids or putting them to bed, and then settling into a routine of housegroup, Bible study or talk preparation, solo relaxation (I'm reading the excellent seafaring stories of Patrick O'Brien at the moment), or sleeping.
A year ago I asked myself the question: how can I dig myself out of this rut? The question itself suggested the answer: Get an allotment my boy!
Now before you cringe with horror at this acquiescence to a lifestyle choice for those of maturer years, just consider the benefits. First, what a great way to fight the flab! All that digging and exercise and endless scrabbling in the dirt. Then there is the provision of cheap, and interestingly shaped vegetables to give mealtimes that little extra zing. Previously, when conversation dragged, they could only say 'Dad, that carrot looks like your nose,' a remark that wasn't funny the first time they said it, let alone the forty-first. But now the kids cry out: 'Dad, that marrow looks like your nose.'
But the main benefit has been the opening up of a world where men of my age (and above) take time to talk with each other. Leaning on our spades on a warm afternoon, we talk about propagation and which crops do best, and help each other out with a bit of watering when we're on holiday. I've met a retired sea captain, an unemployed jack of all trades with a philosophy degree, a politics lecturer and a designer. It's a slow start to gospelling, but friendships have started developing which have the possibility of going further. I've even had constructive conversations with a couple of guys already.
The glut of certain crops has also helped us get to know our neighbours better: I'm welcomed with open arms when I offer excess tomatoes, potatoes and kohl rabi (what?) to them.
So laugh if you will, but taking up a middle aged hobby has helped me with my weight and my witness.
Greenfinger
© Evangelicals Now - November 1997
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