Planting Seeds

4/14/25

I was reading about planting seeds of faith this weekend. It was freeing to read about how it isn't really our job to save people, convince them, or secure their place in eternity. It's our job to plant the seeds. I have felt torn and disappointed over the last few years, that I haven't been in a God-focused relationship with a God-fearing and God-loving man, with a surrendered heart. I have churned and beat myself up over the way the faith of my children have been shaped and impacted by the relationship I have had with their father while they have had so many formidable years. It feels like the greatest failure that they haven't all verbalized they have personal relationships with God and that I do not see Him working in their daily lives.

Then, this weekend, I read a perspective-shifting devotional, and it was beautiful. My grandfather planted his seeds of faith in me. I saw how he lived, loved, and served. I saw how he studied the Bible in quiet stillness and how he bowed his head when no one was looking. Consistently. Day after day. Alone and with others. His faith and relationship with God have been the single most impactful thing on my faith—and the faith of everyone who knew him, honestly. There's a huge lift in the mindset of planting seeds versus the pressure of convincing, the pressure of the outcome. The tulips I planted last year came up this Spring, in their own time. When I planted them, they were brown, peeling bulbs. Nothing green, no signs of the flowers that would emerge unannounced this Spring. I didn’t remember to water them. In fact, I didn’t remember them at all.

The seeds of all the vegetables I planted a few weeks ago were teeny, tiny little things. They weren’t green. In fact, they were all mostly colorless shades of white or cream. There were no signs of roots to be found among them in their paper envelopes as I dumped them into my hands. But, I planted them with faith and God is doing the rest. It reminds me of my Papa's response when I would ask him how in the world he would continue to bring in 5 gallon bucket after 5 gallon bucket of tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, and corn all summer long. His response was predictable because it was the same every single time. He would always say, "I just planted the seeds, God did the rest." I feel that’s what I’m called to do as well. And, I'm really thankful for this realization.

I believe there is a purpose and there are gifts that are part of God's plan in my failings as well. Even more, His plan is beautiful, powerful, and believable because He said so. He can mend a broken heart. He can turn a lifeless little seed into a green, rooted, force that has been forgotten under inches of dirt. So, I choose to keep planting seeds. I choose to plant them in my children's hearts, in the dirt, and in my own heart using my hands and bowed head. I'm leaving it up to God to do the watering and sunshining, the storming, and the rooting, knowing I cannot control anything other than the planting. 

4/8/2025 Uncovered Wounds

Today's devotional is about the courage of the Shunammite woman who has a pain and wound bigger than anything else- her desire for a child. The devotional says, "This wound is so painful that she dare not allow it to be uncovered." Oh, I feel that so bigly. Although I don't feel the pain of a woman unable to or trying to conceive, the pain in my heart does feel like a gaping wound that if I uncover it, surely will have the power to overtake me because it is so great and deep. Fear lives in that vulnerability and I've been asking God to heal my heart and let me receive love again. I feel that this wound of mine being covered and hidden, keeps me from hurting but also keeps me from feeling and receiving, believing in love. I know that fear is not from the Light. I know that fear is the opposite of faith. I wrestle with them both. I know and do not want to live a life in fear or because of fear. I want to live a life of faith. I know that we suffer because we love and have loved. We grieve, we mourn, we cry, we reason, we protect and guard our hearts because we have loved. 

The devotional goes on to provide more details about the story from 2 Kings 4. It says that nevertheless, God faithfully fulfills His plan for her. Nevertheless. I love that word right there. Nevertheless. Despite, in spite of, regardless of her wound and her pain, and perhaps with her mustard-seed faith...He faithfully fulfills his plan for her. That God has his own plan and she knows it, takes courage, and seeks His plan for her life with hope and faith. She knows God will act to fulfill His plan in her life. He doesn't do anything about the pain. He doesn't change it. He doesn't make it go away. And, she carries on, regardless. She is hospitable and has a serving heart and hands, despite her uncovered wound. I love that part of the story, too. 

Here I am. I've been praying, praying for a mended heart. A gaping wound. One that is too painful to uncover. I've been praying that God would fix it so that I can one day, receive love and trust it. This story gives me strength today, trusting that God has a plan for me. I need only to be courageous, faithful, to have hope, and believe that He will fulfill his promises and plans for me. I say "only," as if it's nothing. It's difficult. But maybe those are the key ingredients that will turn my wound into a strong scar. By shining love on the broken place. 

So, I will wait. And, I will continue to seek Him in His word, people, His creation, in new things, to remind me that He has my little broken heart in His hands and I can trust that He will fulfill His promises and plans for me, in His time. In His time. 

Not without thanks, of course I pause to acknowledge the wonderfully flawed, imperfect, striving, caring, hurting, brave, and kind people He has put in my path that point me to Him. And, I find myself asking Him that, while he is fixing things or choosing not to, while He is asking me to get up, get out, and do all of the things with my broken little heart and mustard seed faith, I am begging Him to please let me keep the people He has sent. To let me keep the people that love me like He does, without knowing. To let me keep the people who are all shining love on my uncovered pain. 

And, finally, I pray that He doesn't let me forget or become numb to the uncovered pain of others all around me. The unspoken pain. The unseen and covered kind.