Thinking about the Way of God
Weather and schedule permitting, I begin my monthly composting cycle by picking up five to ten bags of grass clippings or leaves along the street near my home. I spread these yard wastes in thin layers in the collection area near my compost bin. Nearby I store the coffee grounds I have collected at a local convenience stores and shredded paper from work. Soon I have enough materials to fill my one-pallet by two-pallet bin.
From my collection area, I estimate that I am mixing two parts of carbon or brown matter to one part of green or nitrogen. When I do not have enough leaves (browns) to mix with the yard or kitchen trimmings(greens), I use shredded office paper. For greens I usually have some household wastes (vegetable only) and in the summer, garden trimmings to add to the grass clippings. In the winter, I add coffee grounds (brown-colored, but a green with as much nitrogen as manure which the local convenience store furnishes at the rate of five gallons a day. Then comes a sprinkling of mature compost from the previous batch that was too coarse to go through my 1/2” screen. This compost inoculates the new material with the microorganisms that will speed decomposition. To moisten the materials, I sprinkle the pile with water from my rain barrels. I continue to add more grass and other wastes, then water the mix until the pile is three to four feet high.
During the next weeks the temperature nears 140°. I take a half inch, six foot-long rod and poke holes in the pile from top to bottom to provide oxygen. If I have not lined the bin with plastic, I occasionally water the pile to help maintain a moist environment which the micro-organisms need to break down the vegetable matter. I scrounge agricultural plastic from farmer friends to loosely cover the pile, keeping it moist in the summer and warmer in the winter.
If I see that the composting has not reached the outer layer, I fork the material from one bin to another, being careful to move the outer matter to the inside of the new pile. Dry matter gets watered as I mix it. This mixing provides an additional benefit of an hour or so of vigorous exercise and time to think.
As I lean on my fork I imagine that my composting mirrors the grace of God working in our lives. My compost pile contains other peoples’ garbage: Leaves and grass clippings. I have added the zuchini that stayed in the refrigerator too long, cabbage that the worms wasted, corn stalks from which we have harvested yellow, juicy ears, tomatoes that I neglected to harvest promptly. God takes the remains of one growth cycle, the scraps, the worn out parts, and the prunings of excess growth and mixes them together. He takes the garbage that life dumps on us and adds the air and moisture needed to activate the change. The material that God changes provides benefits for the next stage of growth. Maybe God, the composter, models for us a way of dealing with life. If you make garbage of your life, God will help you make compost or If life brings you garbage, make compost.
Children understand this concept when I have talked to their classes. Tough second and third grade boys enjoy taking deep whiffs of the old kitchen wastes in the bucket I set in the dark next to one of compost. They enjoyed the feel of the compost and some offered to run their hands through the garbage as well. I told them: Sometimes you make a mess of a project at home, an assignment at school or a friendship. Sometimes the garbage is dumped on you, sometimes you make it yourself. God can help you change this garbage into something like compost; something to help you grow when the next opportunity comes along.
“Bioremediation” is s variation of the composting process. Contaminated soil is mixed with wood chips and poultry litter and allowed to heat to above one-hundred and forty degrees. After several months of cooling, the contaminants have disappeared. As a pacifist it seems ironic to me that this process was developed on a military base for soil contaminated by aviation fuel.
Forking the compost from one bin to the other has given me time to think about these things—time also for the change in the compost. After a several months the damp, brown compost now shows little evidence of the original ingredients. As I throw the compost against the half-inch hardware-cloth screen most of the material falls into my wheelbarrow below.
The results of my stress-reducing exercise, the blessing for my rescue of valuable organic matter from the local incinerator, and the boon for my plants, flows dark brown and sweet-smelling through the sifter. From smelly green grass clippings, brown leaves, banana peels and coffee grounds-with time and effort—came the miracle of mature compost. This compost will enrich the soil promoting a new period of growth. The transformation convinces me that anyone who holds mature compost in their hands has a better “feel” for God’s grace.
If life brings you garbage, make compost.
If you have garbaged up your life, make compost.