A note to the reader: Each month I share a bit about what God’s doing in my life. This looks like a rambling narrative of where I am with God, what I’m learning, where I’ve encountered Him, what I’m wondering about. The goal isn’t really to “teach” or share a lesson, but to invite you into my process, my relationship with God, to help you know me better and to hopefully help you explore possibilities for your own life with God. Here’s this month’s edition.
1.
“Either this whole book is a metaphor, or the main characters are seeds.”
My ten-year old daughter was reading the back cover of a new library book, and her comment piqued my curiosity.
Seeds as characters? How interesting. My imagination was awakened.
2.
The next morning, I opened up my Bible to the passage of the week in my Lenten Reading Plan. It was John 12:23-26:
23 Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 24 Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. 25 Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 26 Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me.
The words that stood out to me were “if it dies, it produces many seeds.” In another version it says, “if it dies, it bears much fruit.”
As I read the words, I thought of the seed as a character. I imagined the seed personified. I put myself in the place of the seed and found myself resistant to being buried and covered by dirt. Resistant to “death” as a seed.
But a seed that tries to remain a seed will eventually shrivel up and die. And a seed that gives itself, that allows itself to be buried, will be transformed into what it was made to be and it becomes more. It bears fruit and new seeds. There’s abundant life.
What feels like self preservation to a seed it actually death.
What feels like death is actually abundance and life.
3.
Seeing myself as this resistant seed exposed, again, my tendency toward self preservation.
I began wondering about my tendency toward self preservation. Was I created that way or did I learn it?
On one hand, I believe in the gift of it. Ages ago, before grocery stores or even gardens and farms, humans had to gather and hunt for their food. They needed people who were inclined to save and preserve what they had in case of droughts or winter or other circumstances that meant a lack of food.
But also, I get stuck here. Even in a life where my physical needs are easily met and I follow a God of abundance and care, my tendency is towards saving up energy, time, and money, just in case.
4.
A month or two ago I got a card in the mail. It was a letter I had written to myself on the last night of my trip to Nicaragua. A passage that I wrote to myself caught my eye:
What feels like it will always be true can change, the stories we believe about ourselves and the things we’ve decided. God can change what feels unchangeable.
I wrote this in the context of the trip. Doing things, and watching my kids do things, that I never would have expected. That were in direct opposition to who we’ve claimed to be.
God can change what feels unchangeable.
Maybe this is true for me still?
5.
Last month I went to a prayer night hosted by a Bible Study group I’m a part of. There was the option for a Visio Divina which is a prayer practice that allows us to encounter God’s presence in what we see. We were invited to choose a photograph and contemplate it with God.
The photograph I picked was of a small shoot emerging from a snowy ground. I found myself wondering what this small green shoot would become. I found myself asking, what are you growing here God?
Then I felt myself wondering: God, what are you growing in me?
6.
A few weeks ago I took a walk in a local nature preserve. I noticed some seeds from last fall clinging to the branches of trees.
I found myself thinking, “Let go little seeds! Let yourself be planted so you can grow into what you were made to be!”
And then I felt like those words were for me. Let go, Erin. Let go of who you have believed yourself to be. Let yourself be planted so that you can grow into who you were made to be.
7.
One day last week, my daily listening question was: what does restoration look like in my life?
A few things came to mind as I talked to God about it, but one was that, for me, restoration is identifying not with where or who I’ve been but where I’m going and who I’m becoming.
8.
As we approach Easter, I’ve been thinking a lot about Jesus.
The sacrifice of His death, yes. But also, the sacrifice of His life.
Coming to Earth at all in the form of a human was an act of giving Himself. He gave up His godliness, His communion with the Trinity.
And the way He lived was a sacrifice. He was constantly inconvenienced and interrupted, giving His life to teaching and healing and caring for those in need of hope and restoration. On the night that He was betrayed, knowing what was coming, He got low and washed His disciples dirty feet in an act of humility and care. And then, He endured a humiliating, excruciating death on a cross, giving Himself in fullness.
He gave His life, not for who He was becoming, but for me. For you. For love.
He lived into the fullness of who He was for the good of others, for the furthering of the kingdom.
And it wasn’t easy for Him either. He asked God, if it’s possible, can we do this another way? He agonized, sweat blood, cried out in prayer, and still, He gave Himself away.
9.
In a conversation with my spiritual director I realized I am wanting God to change me in a moment. To make me more generous, more willing to give myself away. I want it to feel easy.
But death isn’t easy and painless. It wasn’t for Jesus. Why would I expect it would be easy for me?
But Jesus did have a vision of who He was dying for. For the joy set before Him, He endured the cross.
Maybe I need a greater vision. Both of who I’m becoming and what I am giving my life for?
10.
It’s been weeks of this. Collecting learnings and ideas and images and wondering about it with God.
I’m feeling the invitation to (like a seed) give myself to become something new, something more. It feels like an invitation to a season of becoming. Laying down (burying) the old for something new to sprout. A shift from self preservation to sacrifice. From scarcity to abundance. From defend to discover.
Practically, this is what I’m feeling led to try as I step into giving myself and becoming:
To daily ask, “how do I give myself away today?” and then listen to God and respond by doing it.
To imagine myself letting go and landing right into God’s hands. I can trust Him and the abundance in His hands.
To ask God where I’m going, who I’m becoming, and to step forward with that image in mind.
11.
My husband spread grass seed a few weeks ago and had been diligently watering it each day. I found myself examining it regularly, wondering why it hadn’t sprouted yet.
My husband kindly wondered about my view of growth. How quickly I expect fruit to appear once something has been planted.
This felt like another invitation. For patience. For a release of expectations and for trusting God who does the growing, with my own life, my own becoming.
And so, moving forward, I plant. And I wait. And I trust God with my life as I give it.
And may you encounter the God who loves you as you make space in your schedule and in your soul.