“It takes faith to believe this, as it takes faith for a farmer to plant a seed.” -Elizabeth Elliott [Passion and Purity]
I’m reading “Passion and Purity” right now. An okay book that we’ve owned since freshman year of college but never read. Kind of a strange set up with lots of jumping around from quote to journal entry to scripture to narration. I took some interest in the short excerpt that talks about faith. I never thought of it in a personal way like I did when I read the above quote.
Elliott talks about a farmer (I don’t really consider myself a farmer, but I suppose in a sense I am). He is very expectant and has great faith that his crop to grow. In my own experience, I know as soon as my summer garden is planted, I go out and look at it nearly everyday to see what is happening out there. In my mind, I believe it will grow. I expect it to. I never have a doubt that something will happen.
In an non-analogous way, how many times do I doubt that God is going to make things happen? When a revelation first comes, I don’t necessarily act on it right away, I might need to think things over first, until maybe I see something else that matches up. Figuratively speaking, I am not eager to run out to the God garden every day to see if anything else has changed, I just sit inside and just visit my God garden occasionally, glancing over it quickly and then heading back inside to my couch.
Sounds like quite the journey of consciousness.
In my backyard garden, after my plants have fully grown and have bore some fruit, usually toward the end of the season, I tend to stop being so excited about it. I actually kind of look forward to the end of my garden by the time the fall comes.
Likewise, my God garden follows suit. When something finally DOES start happening in the garden, I start checking it often. I’m in. I have my proof, Sherlock Henry has solved the mystery – God is at work.
But somehow, after awhile, I start getting an infestation of ants in my pants. Things are going really well spiritually, fruit is being produced, the plants are looking healthy, but I grow weary of the upkeep. I only check on my garden (processing) on occasion. Weeds begin to take a prominent position in the garden. I might miss a few “tomatoes” because those dang rabbits got ’em before I was able to make it out there and pick them. That same lazy attitude has cost me something.
It cost me a truck load of fun. It cost me some great spiritual exercise. It cost me my deep connection with Jesus.
The moral of the story is: I have got to start having real garden faith. I need to start an adventurous season of growing with God with as much excitement and care as I do my own summer garden. And just when I feel like things can go on autopilot, I need to wake myself up off the couch and continue the journey. Don’t wuss out at the end, as I am so good at doing. Live this:
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful.” -2 Timothy 4:7 [NLT]