the spiritual side of plowing

There are about 937 times a day that a writing topic pops into my head. I’ll read a short devotion and think it is the perfect subject matter to reflect more on. I’ll hear a quote and want to take it apart with my thoughts. I’ll do, see, or experience something that I just have to share. Often times, I ponder people and relationships, current events, and really, the world I live in, solely through the lens of how I would write about those things.

Because when you love to write, your mind just works like that.

One good part about having a “need-to-write-about-this” brain is that for someone like me (type-A, high-energy, finish one task and right on to the next, has an opinion about most things in the world- some more merited than others) is that putting words to something forces me to think about it… quite a bit, actually.

And today, I’m thinking about dirt. (But please, keep reading).

Hosea 10:12 talks to us as if we are the gardeners of our lives. We are to sow righteousness and harvest the fruit of unfailing love; we are to break up the unplowed ground of our lives, and do so as we wait for the Lord to come shower his righteousness on us. And so, I am thinking about dirt.

Did you know that plowing the soil before planting anything in it does more than loosen the dirt so it is easier to work with? Plowing brings oxygen and minerals to the soil, giving the seeds planted a better chance at thriving. Plowing also breaks up the dried soil clods so that surface area contact between seeds and soil is greater. Break the hard surface... stir up what’s below... allow life back in... produce more life. That’s what plowing does.

How many areas of our lives are “unplowed ground?” Personally, I can name two big ones (and a whole list more, but I do want this to be a manageably-readable blog)

Habits. Those nasty little parts of my routine that I have let myself believe are healthy and normal when they are, in fact, far from either of those things. Take for example my laundry habit. I make the worst San Francisco-native-environment-loving-pro-green-girl when it comes to laundry. Sometimes I leave a load in the wash one (or two, don’t tell anyone!) day(s) too long and thus, have to waste water re-washing it. I don’t iron, because ten minutes in the dryer does almost as efficient of a job loosening up those wrinkles. And I have never air-dried clothes in my life, because I am already short and, unlike my tall friends, don’t have a problem with clothes shrinking on me—that, and I buy most clothes a little big to feel thinner (it’s true).

But I have habits that are a lot more damaging, and as I get closer and closer to married life the yuckiness comes much more clearly into view. Being single is wonderful and bursting with opportunities and growth, but if you’re not careful, singleness can cultivate selfishness. When you don’t have someone you love to answer to, you can be in a bad mood— actually linger in that bad mood— and no one will challenge you. You can make your plans with no regard for the schedule, desires, dreams, abilities and plans of someone else. You can spend your money exactly how you want to, and not on something you will never touch but you know means the world to your love. You have much less accountability when you’re single. And after 25 years of doing my own thing, I have developed one too-many super selfish habits, and these traits and default modes are simply, well… harmful.

Relationships. At this moment, I can think of a handful of relationships right off the top of my head that have not been cared for in entirely too long. I’ve thought about calling and haven’t. I’ve been meaning to slip a note in the mail but put it off (and that was around Easter… last year). And on the other end of the spectrum, there are other relationships that need mending, a good heart to heart, maybe even closure.

I believe there is a very natural life cycle to the relationships in our lives, some end after a season, some last a few of them, and a select few are forever. But each one, according to the season it is in, needs the appropriate amount of care. If it is early and we want it to grow, it takes a little more attention, a bit more detail-work, and a bit more tender touch. After a season it might die, and that is ok, it is part of God’s plan for the body of Christ to come together and then walk away. But it might, after a season, find its rhythm, and taking care of it is easier the more time goes by because you learn—and can supply— exactly what that relationship needs to grow. I would guess that we all have people in our lives that fall on both ends of the spectrum, and everywhere in between.

Where I live in the Northwest, I think we are in spring—although some days feel like summer and others winter—but for the sake of my metaphor, I will go with what the calendar says and say it is spring. And that means it is the perfect time of year for gardening. And really, I don’t think it is an accident that I am so caught up in the “plowing” thing, in fact I think my life is over-due for some plowing. Time to break the hard surface of habits and attitudes that have been allowed to sit and solidify so many months and years. Time to stir up the routine of “me-first” thinking and truly serve others first. Time to allow life back in to the places and relationships that have sat neglected. Time to let the newness that comes with the discipline of plowing give life to what is so near me, even in me, and not fully living.

It’s plowing season.