Spring reveals the hidden miracles that developed below the earth’s surface. Dormant seeds had begun to drink the soil’s water, then germinated and grew roots. Shoots developed and instinctively reached for the sun. Green seedlings broke through the ground to declare the arrival of spring, thrilling us with flowers in a variety of colors and petal designs. Though it’s an annual ritual, it never ceases to fill us with wonder.
Our lives are not unlike the process we see in nature. What we plant, whether intentionally or unintentionally, searches for water and sun and develops roots. The shoots that appear are evidence of what seeds were sown. Some produce beautiful flowers, others annoying weeds.
These thoughts were stirred while reading through Romans, reminding me that although I am dead to sin, weeds still appear. Yes, I pull them out and rue the poor decisions that encouraged their growth, but my battle seems as futile as my husband’s war with the dandelions dotting our lawn.
He spends a day spraying and digging up roots to awaken the next morning to dancing yellow heads mocking his efforts. I will not be mocked. I will work at pulling out the weeds that are eager to blemish my life. Although my sin nature is still alive, it is doomed—I see its final demise in my future. In the meantime, I sow good seeds that promise beauty and nutrition.
I plant a seed from Charles Spurgeon before sleep, allowing it to germinate overnight. I intake the Word every morning, cultivating the soil of my heart. I converse with God throughout the day, watering our relationship with praise and prayer. I walk in His light to assure goodness will grow and fruit will come.
Friends, our lives are fertile soil—let’s be selective about the seeds we plant.
BARBARA HIGBY 