GOOD DIRT

As (the farmer) was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. Whoever has ears, let them hear.”           Matthew 13:4-9 NIV

We haven’t gotten many blueberries for the past couple of years. Besides birds stealing the fruit, too much rain caused the berries to split as they were ripening.

I was excited when my Jelly Bean blueberries came. Small enough to plant in one of my raised beds with a wire frame to keep the birds from stealing the fruit, with a plastic cover to keep out too much water when it rains too much. But that bed is the spot, no other, and the soil test was way off from what they need. Lots of work, but the soil is amended and the blueberries are in the ground, waiting for spring.

A question in Sunday School: Why does faith seem to come so much easier for some people than for others?

Some possible answers: Maybe it’s because the Master Gardener plowed their ground a little deeper. Maybe He moved most of the rocks out, worked that soil, fertilizing, composting, building it up to make it ready to accept and nourish the seed. Maybe He watered it just enough, gave it just the right balance of sun and shade, chose the right season for planting, chose the right mulch.

Soil preparation is important. And after all that preparation, even good soil needs tending. Weeds can grow there just as easily as good plants can. 

  

Soul preparation can be even more important. 

Some soul weeds, especially young ones, need only a gentle tug to dislodge them. But some—pride, selfishness, antipathy, indifference, greed, prosperity—send down deep roots so strong only the Master Gardener’s plow can remove every piece of living root and keep them from growing again.

What am I, Avi? Am I an orchard? Am I a tiny herb plot? Am I a broad, sun-kissed grain field, or shaded for more tender plants?

How am I to know? And what does it matter, anyway? I’m just the right size, just the right texture and pH, with just the right amount of sunlight and water for what You, the Master Gardener, have chosen to grow in me.

Grow my faith in You even deeper, Avi. Let Your word in me choke out the weeds. Take Your hoe to those that won’t choke and, for those still too large, bring on Your plow.

In Your Holy Name, Amen.