Do you know what I truly want? I want Christ to really do something with my heart.
When I think back to the days before I became a pastor, I think about the reasons why I kept coming to church and sitting on those hard pews. The main reason that I kept coming to church was that I actually wanted Jesus to do something with my heart.
I actually wanted to have an encounter with Jesus that was so powerful that my heart would be changed and my life, therefore, might also be changed. I wanted to go into church as one person, and come out the other side a brand new version of me filled with the Holy Spirit.
Because of this thirst for a drastic change to my life, I loved the song by Handt Hanson, “Lord Let My Heart Be Good Soil.”
Lord, let my heart be good soil,
open to the seed of your word.
Lord, let my heart be good soil,
where love can grow and peace is understood.
When my heart is hard, break the stone away.
When my heart is cold, warm it with the day.
When my heart is lost, lead me on your way.
Lord, let my heart, Lord, let my heart,
Lord, let my heart be good soil.
Here is the thing. I never walked into church feeling like, “Oh yeah, I got this thing called life all figured out. I’ll just come to church to give others a little bit of moral support.” That never happened.
Rather, I would stumble into church feeling like God had thrown God’s word onto the pathway of my soul, and somehow I completely missed it. It was as if the word had been thrown onto a parking lot and it never even had a chance with all of the birds around and the obvious lack of fertile ground. Most days the word had been snatched away, and I did not even have a chance to grasp it.
Other times, I would sit through church and be moved by the word through either the preaching or the beauty of the music as it gracefully traveled through the air and penetrated my soul. I would walk out the doors of the church, ready to let that grace of God come through the Word to move me and shape my actions. I was ready to be who God had made me to be.
I was like some soil that allowed God’s word to grow up fast and tall, but as soon as my life took the slightest of unexpected turns, whether it be the unfairness of a boss, or the struggling health of a family member, or maybe even just the busyness of life…the busyness of every single hour that never allowed me to do the loving things for God that I desired…the inspiration soon withered and died.
Then, there were the times that the word just did nothing at all. It fell among the shopping lists and worries about family and friends that were at the forefront of my mind as I sat in church and failed to listen. It never had a chance to even be noticed among those little thorns that grow up and get in the way.
Sometimes those thorns of life were not so little though. Sometimes, the word fell among huge, thick thorns of self-righteousness that would not allow any compassion for anyone who had failed in life in any way.
I am not proud of the thoughts that caused me to look down at the neighbor and see trash, rather than looking at the neighbor and seeing possibilities.
More than once the words, “If only they just worked a little harder,” came from my lips; words that are hard, thorny, with no understanding or compassion. Somehow I thought that a nice thick thorn, with its sharp end and sharp tongue would somehow poke these low lives into greatness.
The truth is, thorns an only poke and slay.
God’s word of forgiveness, love, and new possibilities fell into deaf thorns on those days, and there was no soil of love to be found.
As I said, I am not proud of those thorny days. They still come too. I am not proud now when they come today either, but they always seem to come anyway. And, all I can do when I feel the guilt of such hardness of hard and sharpness of thorns is sing:
Lord, let my heart be good soil,
open to the seed of your word.
Lord, let my heart be good soil,
where love can grow and peace is understood.
When my heart is hard, break the stone away.
When my heart is cold, warm it with the day.
When my heart is lost, lead me on your way.
Lord, let my heart, Lord, let my heart,
Lord, let my heart be good soil.
As much as I sang about desiring to be good soil, I am not certain that I ever really was. I think, at best, I was sometimes sandy soil on a beach, which can grow certain things, but not others. I am not certain that God’s word, which seeks to draw us together into a garden of mutual care and support, fertilized and watered continually with the gift of forgiveness, ever really found its proper footing in my heart. The cares of the world and the hardness of my heart toward others kind of closed the gate to such a beautiful garden.
When Jesus said to me, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” I responded, “for they should try harder so that I don’t have to worry about them.” That is not the word taking hold. That is not the way of serving the neighbor. That is not the way of giving. That is not the way of Jesus.
So, what are people like me supposed to do? What are people like me, whose soil is distracted and only partially fertile supposed to do, because I have been trying to be good soil for a very long time now, but somehow it just does not seem to be happening for me in any permanent way?
What are normal, busy, sometimes loving, but sometimes hardhearted, sometimes too sad or too mad for God’s Word to take root sort of people supposed to do?
We listen to these words;
“Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell on the path, and the birds came and ate them up. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil. But when the sun rose, they were scorched; and since they had no root, they withered away. Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.”
But, no matter where the seeds fell, the sower kept sowing.
Is your soul a lifeless parking lot? God still throws seed there. God has not forgotten you.
Is your soul full of rocks? God still throw seed there. God has not forgotten you.
Is your soul tangled up in a bunch of thorns; so trapped that it is unable to see the light of day? God still keeps throwing and throwing and throwing that seed of grace at you, and it tumbles and bounces around until it comes to rest on your soil because God has not forgotten you.
God never assumes that your soil is too hard or rocky or thorny to grow anything, because it is not.
Blessed are us with quite a bit less than perfect spirits, because we get the kingdom of heaven showered down on us. And, when you are showered with grace, over and over again, your soil tends to start to darken into that rich stuff that just might be able to sprout some of God's love and grace.
Lord, let my heart be good soil. Shower me again, and again with your Word.
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