Seeds of Growth

My mom sent out an article today on potatoes and how they are becoming increasing popular as food costs soar. Potatoes hold a special place in my family's heart. They are the pride and joy not only of the Red River Valley of ND but my Grandpa Henry boasted their goodness as well. Grandpa also build steel buildings across ND, ID and WA...most of which held potatoes. Today Henry and I planted lettuce seeds in a small pot. These two events reminded me of a newsletter article I wrote nearly 6 years ago for my congregation. As the spring planting gets started and Henry and I watch our lettuce plants, I remember my Grandpa Henry and give thanks once again for all that he taught me.

I hope June and July have been good months for you. They have gone by fast for me. I had all these grand plans for the summer and here it is mid-July with barely one started.

Some of these projects weren't ones anyone would know about except me. (You know: become more forgiving, enjoy life more, be thankful...things like this.) They were little personal goals. Which are often, not the kind of goals that I like. You can’t really measure them. You can’t calculate them or even point to their progress.

I like to see things. I like to tangibly know that progress has been made. That’s perhaps why I am enjoying my garden so much this summer. Each day I know it is growing. I know when the bugs have gotten to it. I can tell when the bugs are gone. I can see progress when I weed. I know when it needs water. I like all this about a garden.

This past week our Gospel text was Matthew 13:1-9. In the parable, a sower goes out to sow some seed. When I planted my garden I was blessed with help from my grandparents. My grandpa has a certain way he likes to plant a garden. “Precision” doesn’t quite fully explain it. We measured and planned. We stopped short of getting out the level to see if the rows were straight. We made perfect circles for the cucumbers. The tomatoes and peppers are evenly spaced. We didn’t waste or lose one seed.

In Matthew’s Parable of the Sower, God, The Sower, doesn’t plant seed quite the same way as my grandpa. God seems to throw out the seed willy-nilly all over the soil. Truthfully, it seems a little wasteful. Some of the seed falls on rocky soil and some falls on good soil. Birds eat some of it; the hot sun consumes other seeds.

I have this image of God standing in the fields of our life with a huge, bottomless bag of seed—seed that is God’s Word of love, mercy, forgiveness and hope—and with an overflowing handful, God begins to spin. As God spins the Word is sent out all over our lives. It falls in every nook and corner. Not all of it will take root just now. We are made up of all sorts of soil—some ready for planting, some too rough and hard to take seed yet. God seems to know this and God doesn’t seem to think it is wasteful at all to keep heaping on the love and scattering hope. Over and over again God keeps replanting our lives with his gracious love.

I’m glad God isn’t quite the type of gardener I’m use to. If I had to wait for my heart and soul to be good soil before God planted it—I’d be a desolate plot of land. There’d be no growth.

No, God keeps sending out gracious love, knowing that sometime, somewhere the Word will take root and we will continue to grow.

Some days, I wish this growth was quicker or more visible…but mostly I give thanks to God that you and I are loved and forgiven in spite of our rough terrain. Thankfully, God keeps on spinning.