My hands slipped into the soil and I felt that connection. We are made from this dust, and God-breathed life into us, and we rise and we walk and we move and breath because he first breathed into us. Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being. (Genesis2:7)
And we started here, in this soil. In a garden.
I sow seeds all day long. I till soil and I plant and water and pray and wait, and sometimes there is a drought. The rainy season and dry seasons come according to his time and I am just here, sowing, toiling, hoping, praying, waiting…
So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. (1 Corinthians 3:7)
Still a novice, I continue to learn how to do this, how to work this ground, to shape and feed these little sprouts, these tender shoots given to my care. I’m a constant student, digging hands deep in and working the rough soil, breaking up the rocks, taking extra care as new growth springs up, tirelessly, relentlessly working. Weeds threaten constantly to overtake this plot. Sun bares down while hands ache and knees grow numb from the constant time spent on them, and still it goes on. The work is not yet finished, really, this is only the beginning.
Do farmers plow and plow and do nothing but plow? Or harrow and harrow and do nothing but harrow?After they’ve prepared the ground, don’t they plant?(Isaiah 28:24,25)
What do I do? How doI do I accomplish this weighty task? How do I raise souls for Christ?Aren’t I just dirt and filth myself? Aren’t I just dust breathed into life- and yet, The farmer knows how to treat each kind of grain. His God instructs him and teaches him the right way. (Isaiah 28: 26)
So I roll sleeves and plunge hands deep in, and let it filter through my fingers, this soil is soft and smooth and dark, rich with nutrients to make it all grow. Strengthened by truth and wisdom from heaven, You care for the land and water it; you enrich it abundantly. (Psalm 65:9) I need only look to you, the great gardener, and you will instruct. When I work along side of Him, Creator, I need not fear. The farmer sows the word. (Mark 4:14)
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John 1:1, 14)
We do this thing daily, this mothering, this “farming”, and when it’s dry we pray hard for rain, and when the floods come, we pray in turn for relief. The struggle for wisdom and balance, for strength and endurance, when the sun bares down and the sprouts threaten to wither, and sharp weeds poke through and cause the bleeding, we continue on. We pursue because we must. We learn along side the one who created all things and we learn to give thanks and glory, and above all we have hope.
For we are God’s fellow workers. (1 Corinthians 3:9)
Counting on to my 1000 Gifts and beyond….
276. rain tapping on glass, the rythym of you knocking on hearts
278. words to heal, to encourage, to praise…
279. Long awaited birth of babies, not one, but TWO blessings (Twins!!) and their names laced with your truths, Solomon, Micaiah… (My God, your abundance overwhelms)
281. Garden soil, the planting of seeds and growing of souls for you, all for your glory- the business of motherhood and the growing of children
282. For rainy and dry seasons and the lessons that run through each…
© Kris Camealy 2011