When I Can’t Sow
I can remember sewing with my grandmother, Mama Jerri. I also remember how bad the arthritis was in her hands. She was an extraordinary seamstress, but some days the pain made it impossible for her to sew and she would ask me to help her sew. Some days the pain in my spirit makes it impossible for me to sow.
The other morning, I was sitting at the dining room table praying for my husband. Nothing is wrong, I pray for him every day. Usually, I write out a little prayer for his day on a post it note. He puts it in his wallet for the day as a reminder of whatever it may say.
As I sat reading and writing, I noticed the vase full of wheat stalks. I bought them many years ago to remind me of home. I brushed my hand through them just to hear them rustle as if blown by an Indiana breeze. I allowed my mind to travel back in time to a farm in Redkey, IN. I could see the endless fields of corn, wheat, and soy beans. I could hear the whirl of a combine preparing to harvest.
I reached over and plucked a kernel off of a stalk. I carefully removed the outer layer in hopes of finding the seed (germ). I know I shouldn’t have been surprised to find an empty kernel, but I was. There was merely a shell of this wheat stalk’s potential. Where had the seed gone?
Please allow me to backtrack a few days. We were at church enjoying worship, when they asked if anyone needed prayer to come forward. My husband took my hand and led me towards the alter. I have been in a lot of pain for far too long due to a pinched nerve in my sinuses. It is a long story, but suffice it to say; you never want a fallen sinus bone. Mark told our pastors about the pain. They laid hands on me and Pastor M. began to pray about the pain.
His prayer quickly changed. That happens when the Holy Spirit takes over to get to a deeper issue, an unseen and possibly unknown issue. The words he said resonated so loudly in my soul. While I laughed at the mention of an old KJV Bible, my soul knew he was stating the truth. While some of what he said was lost in the sounds of worship; my heart heard what it needed to hear. The conviction came like a summer thunderstorm.
The first couple of days after “the prayer”, I tried to rationalize away the words. I tried to justify why I am at the place I am spiritually. I discussed them with my husband, but he had not heard all that I heard. But, as I looked inside that empty wheat kernel, I knew.
I can’t sow.
I can’t sow because I have not been feeding the living part of me. We are a spiritual being inside of a physical body. I have been acting like a body with a spirit. I have been feeding my body: that hard outer shell that is to protect the seed. I feed it with the things of the flesh that I enjoy. I enjoy my caffeine, eating food that I know is not good for me. Feeding it with the sadness of this year’s election. Feeding it with mindless television. Many years ago I fed it with drugs and alcohol.
I feel spiritually stuck! Stagnant! Stalled! Shriveled!
Don’t get me wrong, I am still sowing. I still homeschool my children and pour into their lives. I still pray and mean the words I speak. I still go to church. I still talk with people about my faith. Then the sad realization hit me. I am sowing with discontent, anger, bitterness, impatience, and hurt. I see the frustration in me and so do my children and husband.
I could blame this stagnation on a lot of things that have occurred over the past couple years. The fact remains, I cannot sow what I do not have. I don’t have anything to sow, because I have not been feeding my soul. I talk to God, but He is silent. I pray with doubt in my mind. I love with reservation. I refuse to be vulnerable again. I can’t stay in this stagnation and yet I can’t seem to break the protective outer shell.
Coincidentally (we all know what that means in God’s world), my 9-year old daughter’s science lesson this same day was on germination. Oh, how I silently wept as I helped her read about the seasons and changes a wheat kernel goes through. The part that hit me hardest was reading about the dormant phase of the seed. Here in Florida we do not have the seasons of the Midwest where wheat grows. There is no cold, freezing winter that is not conducive to growth.
Even though the seed is dormant, it is still very much alive. However, it is not growing. Eventually the seed coat finishes its job and dies. The kernel can now bring forth new life…if sown in the proper soil.
I must die…to self.
I must shed off this dead, outer shell and let my spirit fall into the richness of my Father’s hands. John 12:24 “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain.”
What a perfect picture of how Christ died so that I might live.
As difficult as this stagnant, dormant season is, I must still feed my soul; regardless of how I feel. A wise woman told me, “You may feel empty and broken, but DO NOT trust your feelings. God is hanging on to you even though you feel like you are letting go.”
Hebrews 13:5 “Let your conduct be without covetousness; be content with such things as you have. For He Himself has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”.” So often we forget that first part. We like the idea of Him never leaving us, but that first part is a little hard to accept. I will be content in this season, but I WILL NOT be complacent.
I wait with anticipation to witness His power made perfect in my utter weakness!