I don’t usually like to get my hands dirty. I tend to leave those filthy jobs to Peter, even though I know there is something healing about digging in the dirt and tending to new life budding up through the soil.
But today I was tasked with planting seeds in our front flower bed. Peter was doing the heavy lifting – shoveling wheelbarrows full of dirt all over our yard as he repairs the damage from weeks of rain. So I had the small job of planting. Tiny seeds filled my palm as I dug holes in the rich soil that had been covered all winter by bark. As I placed the seeds in the ground, I found myself hoping they would grow into tall and beautiful pink and yellow blossoms, an adornment for our front porch.
Honestly, I don’t know what will happen. I don’t wear the green thumb in our family. That belongs to Peter, who does all things with purpose and perfection. (Purpose and perfection have never been my strong suit.)
Admittedly, I have never really planted anything before but I gave it my best shot.
And now we wait.
And as we sit in this waiting period, I realize my job isn’t to make those flowers grow.
Oh sure, I planted them and will water them. But I can’t actually will them to grow. My job was just to plant the seed. To cultivate an area conducive to growth in hopes that something will eventually push through the soil.
This is much the same as rearing our children. I want so badly to make them behave. Make them be good people. Make them love Jesus.
But in reality, I can’t make those decisions for them. They have to choose good behavior. That have to choose to make good choices. They have to choose Jesus for themselves.
Yes, I can plant the seeds in their little hearts. I can model for them what a follower of Jesus looks like. I can cultivate a home that is conducive to growth in hopes that something will eventually push through the soil of their hearts.
But it’s their choice.
As we get ready to launch our firstborn into the world in just a few short months, I find myself hoping – praying – that we’ve done enough planting and cultivating in her life. Soon she will find herself in a much bigger world than the little bubble she’s lived in for 17 years.
She will be exposed to new beliefs; she will have to be more independent, relying on herself and those around her for things that mom and dad used to do.
Is she ready? Does she have a good foundation? Did I plant the seed correctly in the soil that is her life?
Only time will tell.
So again, we wait. And we watch. And we hope for beauty to spring forth.
“But the seed in the good soil, these are the ones who have heard the word in an honest and good heart, and hold it fast, and bear fruit with perseverance.” Luke 8:15