From Little Seeds

By on April 15, 2012

“Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior.” – Habakkuk 3:17-18

Spring is a time of sowing and planting. It is a time when we can sense new life all around us, and we have an expectancy that the things we sow and plant will one day yield a harvest. When we put a seed in the ground, we cover it up, water it, and try to create an environment that will help that little seed begin to sprout. If you’re like me, you go back day after day to look and see if there is a little sprout popping through the top of the soil. And when we don’t see anything for a while we don’t get upset – we know that seeing evidence that the seed is growing takes a while. We don’t plant a seed and start wringing our hands an hour later because we don’t have tomatoes that are ripe and ready to pick. We usually feel excited knowing that we’ve planted a seed, and one day soon, we’ll begin to see a sprout – and that after months of care we’ll eventually have a harvest.

So what about the other kinds of seeds we sow in life. Do we have that same kind of joyful anticipation about those? Speaking for myself, no – not always. Oh, I’d like to think that I sow at least a few good seeds in my life. But I have this “thing” about wanting to see an immediate harvest. I’m totally guilty of impatience, faithlessness, fear, worry and all of those other not-so-attractive things. I think that by watering the seeds I’ve sown with my tears that they’re going to sprout faster. But they don’t. I think that by blowing hot air over the seeds that they’ll sprout – you know, like when I angrily tell God that I’d better see some sprout-action, “or else”. But they don’t. I think that by stomping the ground all around the seeds will make my own little seeds sprout.  But they don’t sprout then either.

So finally, when I’ve cried myself out, and yelled myself out, and stomped myself out, I just sit there, in my own silence. And God does indeed let me sit. And sit. And when my protracted tantrum is over, then I can start to breathe again. It’s only then that I can utter a few barely audible words to God. Usually something like “I”m sorry…so sorry”. And in my heart I know He hears me. I think that’s the kind of sprouting God wants in all of us. He wants the sprouting that comes from HIS seed. He wants the sprout of my humility. He wants the sprout of my needing Him, and knowing I need Him. He wants the sprout of my praise. And only then can he start to work on my seeds. In His time. In His perfect time.

fall scents for your home

Lord, thank you for showing me the futility of my own efforts, and the realization that without You I’m nothing. Thank you for reminding me, gently, that YOU are responsible for any good harvest in our lives. Forgive me for the bad behavior I have – toward you and toward others. Forgive me for my impatience and utter lack of faith. Bless me, even thought I don’t deserve it. Through Christ you saved me from the enemy – and I ask you to save me from myself – from doing the things and being the kind of person that aren’t going to move me forward. The kinds of things that keep distance between You and me. Thank you for loving me when I’m so very hard to love. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.


Copyright ConnieD. 2012. All rights reserved.

Originally posted on ProChristianWoman.

About Connie Dudley

Connie Dudley is new to blogging. She is an attorney by trade, but has always wanted to write, and write in a way that brings a little joy (and salt and light) into the lives of her readers. She lives in Maryland with her husband, Robert, who is a recent cancer survivor - an experience which has changed her life.

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From Little Seeds