Flying at 10,000 feet above the once-fertile San Joaquin Valley, viewing the great expanse of the produce heartland of the central California delta, you can’t help but consider the present curses plaguing America’s agricultural nexus.

The first man Adam and all his lineage were subjected to working the land by the sweat of their brows due to sin in the garden of Eden. God drove man out of paradise and into a greater working of Earth’s surface (Genesis 3:17-19, 23).

Yet God intended man to derive great value from working with the land, farming, tending a garden or landscaping. The action of plowing, planting and producing connects us to our Maker—the supreme architect, engineer and agriculturalist.

In a world of push-button digital connectivity, the majority of people your age miss the opportunity to appreciate that directive of God to “till the earth from which he was taken.” I am by no means claiming to be a farmer nor avid gardener, although I do enjoy planting and limited landscaping at the homes we move to with each field ministry assignment.

As a teenager, I worked at a mushroom farm and later a plant nursery. The outdoor semi-rural atmosphere was an enjoyable diversion from the city life, which filled my childhood memories.

I later worked for a prominent businessman in his fine dining Victorian-style restaurants, first as a technician assistant, and then as a waiter in those properties along with corporate catering services. That experience positioned me well for my university pursuit of a degree in business-hospitality and journalism.

Yet rather than place me in the areas of my training, God provided a job tending tomatoes and strawberries for a prosperous local farmer.

During one of those hot, sweaty, dirty days, I was tasked with maneuvering a tractor through the immaculate rows of tomatoes. The large blue tractor was parked in front of the farmer’s pigpen. This agricultural metal beast was to be my nemesis. As the gray smoke cleared after successfully turning the ignition key in the right direction, I shifted gears, looked left and right, then let out the clutch, ready to feel the wind in my hair!

Anticipating a surge forward in my produce mission, I was shocked to suddenly lurch backwards—I had unintentionally shifted into reverse gear! And despite looking left and right, I had neglected to look behind me.

Crashing through a barbed wire fence into the pigpen, I managed to find the right gear—but not before the entire pigpen came crashing to the ground. Released from their confinement, the porkers fled into the new found freedom of the tomato field, destroying anything and everything in their path.

I found myself atop the speeding tractor chasing those pigs and yelling, “Get back here, you mongrels!” As the drama concluded, the pigs made their way back to their slop troughs; the farmer’s tomato crop was in ruins.

I stopped the tractor, shaking my head at the scene of agricultural devastation. Looking toward the house of my employer, feeling assured I was moments away from being fired, I received a most startling reaction.

During the crisis, he had gathered his wife and children on the front veranda to witness the historic farming ineptitude. They laughed so loud and so hard that they were all in tears.

Hanging my head and taking my walk of shame toward him, he slapped me on the back and said, “That is the most entertainment I’ve ever had on this farm.”

“Tomorrow, let’s just focus on the strawberry patch.” From that time forward until my final paycheck some months later, I tended the tasty red fruit. As they bade me a fond farewell in advance of my international travel adventures, it was recommended I continue my pursuit of the broadcast and journalistic fields. Farming, he felt, was not in my blood.

Yet, with every tomato eaten and strawberry savored, I recall those sweet days of tending the earth and being reminded of the creative genius and power of our Almighty God who created man from the dust of the ground (Genesis 2:7).

Today, our headquarters facilities in Edmond, along with the grounds of Herbert W. Armstrong College, feature prominent flora throughout the landscape. Combined with its stately architecture, it is an inspirational snapshot of the soon-coming World Tomorrow in pursuit of the perfection of our Creator (Matthew 5:48).

Wherever you live, be sure to seek out opportunities to get your hands dirty now and again, turning soil, planting something, and watching it grow. And as you do, give God your thanks and appreciation for His creative mastery.