Because when I garden, I don’t wear gloves. Maybe it’s because I love the feel of the soil between my fingers. Perhaps the fact that I saw an earthworm as I was planting my tulip bulbs didn’t really freak me out too much since, you know, I live in the country and all. Even though I didn’t jump up and start screamin’ like a fool, I did chop his head off. And the thing just kept movin’. The nerve. The truth of the matter referring to gardening is that I will probably never wear gloves. I need to get in there. To feel the soil. To mesh the Oklahoma red clay with the potting soil so that my plants are full of nutrients. To get the occasional splinter from the mulch as I put it in place to protect what I’ve planted. Ministry is a lot like gardening. There can be some amazing events that are witnessed as we minister to others…saved lives, redeemed marriages, healed bodies, transformed mindsets. And these things delight the eyes of those around much like the blooms of petunias or begonias. But we don’t always realize how dirty ones hands must get to see such unbelievable things occur. I wonder how many mothers and grandmothers prayed for those lives to be saved. I wonder how many couples have reached out to walk hurting couples through difficulties in their marriages. I wonder how many prayer warriors have stood beside a hospital bed pleading with God to bring wholeness to a sick body. And I wonder how many counselors have helped people walk in freedom from detrimental mindsets. I wonder. Yes, ministry is a lot like gardening. Figure my hands will stay dirty for the rest of my days. What about you?