I like the idea that I’m a seed. 

First, I think seeds are fascinating – so small compared to the plant it becomes, seemingly dead, yet full of potential life.  They are a mysterious treasure, as it’s not at all obvious that a seed will become the thing it will grow into just by looking at the seed.  They are so simple, yet so complex.  They have a life of their own as nature takes it course on it’s own a great deal of the time.  Yet, on the other hand, they need tending, nurturing, intentionality.  And even with that intentionality, sometimes they don’t meet their potential.  Yet sometimes, despite our best efforts to thwart their growth, they spring up mightily all the same. And if I put myself in the place of a seed and think of God as the gardener, the sower, it gets even more interesting.  All of the above is still true about the seed that is me.  And I very much like to think that God tends to me, planting me just so, giving me the soil I need, the water I need, the light I need.  It’s a very comforting, nurturing image.  I believe also that in addition to this tending that God does to the seed that is me, God put the code, the DNA, in me to grow into something way beyond what I was at first and even than I am now.  It takes both, the nurturing and the DNA code to grow me into the fullness of who I was created by God to be, to bear the fruit that I was created to bear.

I also like to think of the journey of a seed from the moment it’s sown to the time that it does indeed bear fruit.  It’s not an easy journey.  After being buried in the cold darkness of the earth, the seed has to break open to let life come out of it.  The casing eventually falls away and new life starts seeking light and warmth.  Roots form and reach out to soak up all it can.  There is a relationship between the seed/shoot and the other seeds/shoots around it, complex and mysterious as well. And as the little seed breaks forth above the ground, as it hits air and light, it unfurls and shapes and grows and becomes.  There are many paths it can take.  There are many dangers, inhibitors of growth potentially there.  There is also much to bring it more fully to life and fruition.

Costa Rican fern unfurling

In this time of stewardship emphasis, I think about the fruit of the spirit that is Generosity (Galatians 5:22-23).  This is one fruit that I know I have the code in me for, but which has taken extra work, extra tending, extra watering and light to be able to emerge from the seed that is me.  It hasn’t yet come to full fruition, but it’s getting there.  It’s taken quite a bit of work internally, looking at how I view money, what I value, how I cling to things in my life, what I want.  It’s taken a lot of risk, particularly because there have been lots of times when I can’t see my way through the soil into the light that is ahead, unsure of short- or long-term finances.  It’s also taken a lot of tending of my own garden (switching metaphors for a moment) – working on priorities, budgets, getting out of debt.  It’s also taken the work of the Holy Spirit, working on my heart, opening me up like the leaves of a fern, uncurling parts of me so that I’m able to see needs, to give away, to be less attached to my stuff and what I want, for the sake of others, for the sake of the Kingdom of God.

I don’t yet know what this Generosity fruit will be in it’s most mature state, but one thing I pray is that the work of growing into the generous me I’m meant to be will help others grow into the generous them they are meant to be.  May the seeds that are you be about the same sorts of growth.  Flourish and be fruitful!

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