As we polished off the last of Easter dinner, conversation turned to gardening.
“How are your tomatoes doing?” Mom asked me. She had planted indoor tomatoes in January. Mine were planted in February.
“They’re small and look weak. I hope they make it.” Somehow, against all logic and reason,
I always doubt the natural process of growth.
“Oh? How big are they?” Mom asked.
I raised my hands about eight inches apart. Mom’s eyes widened.
“That’s big!! Ours are only a few inches tall!”
Days later, a friend came by to visit and also was impressed by the size of my tomato plants. I looked at them again. Maybe they really were doing well.
How could I not see what they saw?
It felt a lot like when I left a ministry I’d been a part of for five years...
I looked back on all the seeds I’d sown over the years, and did not see any big growth. Sure, there were a few small changes that happened, but they were just little seedlings that would probably die anyway. There were no mature plants, and certainly not any visible fruit. What was there to show for my effort?
I was so deeply discouraged. I felt like I’d missed it. I’d obviously done it wrong and wasted my time and theirs. Ministry, I began to conclude, was obviously not for me.
What had I accomplished anyway?
And there it was; the whole cause of my discontent.
I wanted to know what I had done. Me.
Small wonder I felt so discouraged and inept when I was looking to my own accomplishments for a sense of meaning or satisfaction.
The fact is I can’t grow a single tomato.
The only thing I can do is plunk a seed in dirt.
Tweet That
I can’t make anyone else grow spiritually either. I can’t bring anyone to heaven or free anyone from sin or heartache. I can only sow seeds.
I sow, God grows. (Will I ever get this through my thick head??)
This discontentment with myself is probably exactly what I need. I need to let the idol of my own effort and good deeds die, and instead fix my affection on God’s goodness.
And when I see what He has done – even if I think it looks weak and might die – I need to practice thanking Him. And trusting Him. And maybe, instead of assuming things will shrivel and die, I should even join His work by praying that His seedlings would flourish.
And then I need to walk away remembering that whether it grows or not is absolutely, completely, entirely His deal, not mine.
He's got it.
What
.
I was so deeply discouraged. I felt like I’d missed it. I’d obviously done it wrong and wasted my time and theirs. Ministry, I began to conclude, was obviously not for me.
What had I accomplished anyway?
And there it was; the whole cause of my discontent.
I wanted to know what I had done. Me.
Small wonder I felt so discouraged and inept when I was looking to my own accomplishments for a sense of meaning or satisfaction.
The fact is I can’t grow a single tomato.
The only thing I can do is plunk a seed in dirt.
Tweet That
I can’t make anyone else grow spiritually either. I can’t bring anyone to heaven or free anyone from sin or heartache. I can only sow seeds.
I sow, God grows. (Will I ever get this through my thick head??)
This discontentment with myself is probably exactly what I need. I need to let the idol of my own effort and good deeds die, and instead fix my affection on God’s goodness.
And when I see what He has done – even if I think it looks weak and might die – I need to practice thanking Him. And trusting Him. And maybe, instead of assuming things will shrivel and die, I should even join His work by praying that His seedlings would flourish.
And then I need to walk away remembering that whether it grows or not is absolutely, completely, entirely His deal, not mine.
He's got it.
What
.
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