This spring, as the lockdown blanketed the air like pollen, the thick yellow nuisance that choked our lungs and stole our breath, I planted seeds in the garden. The bloom of the seeds, perfect and secure in the soil and lined in a row, gave hope to the fruit of self-sufficiency. Callousness and complacency allowed my plants to be overrun and choked by weeds, this overgrowth became unmanageable. My perfect little seeds of hope were destroyed by the invasive demands of an outside society.

 

The tiny seeds were planted in small pots, alone, separated, and small, they were able to turn from seedling to plant. They took root, craving air, light, and attention. With time, care, and love, they would bear fruit and live on their own.

 

A few years ago, I planted the seeds of a changing job and a changing life with time for children’s activities, organizations, and new responsibilities. I had time for each, separating them into blocks of time that filled my day. My job, church, community center, girl scouts, dance, parent-teacher organization, school, feeding, cleaning, gardening, and writing, to name a few varieties. I felt proud of my seedlings, separated, small, and well cared for. And when it was time to transfer them into the ground, each plant had space, time, and nutrients.

 

I loved my garden, it will bear the fruit of joy and time with people I deeply cared for.

 

But seasons changed and the climate shifted with destructive force, lockdowns, no school, no extra time, homeschooling, mandates, long lasted emergency, anxiety, and hopelessness. The weeds came as hurdles, extra details to leap over and understand. How do we operate business and follow the mandates? How to we meet as a troop or organization and protect our members? How do we navigate school that works for teachers, administrators, politicians, and…oh yeah children? How do we love each other from a distance? How do we shop? Where do we shop? And when we shop, will there be anything left? Are my finances ok? If everything stops, will I survive? Are my children ok? Are the other children ok? Who can I help? When can I help?  And how?

 

I feel in this season like I’m standing over my garden watering the weeds. We are choking this precious life, with mandates, check-list, check-ins, check-ups, checking the news, and keeping a check on each other. These things will not bear fruit.

 

Everyone is watching. We want to see what to do next. We are watching the news, the politicians, the organizations and churches, the schools, our neighbors, and even ourselves. We are overwhelming ourselves with checks and balances of new rules, mandates, and social laws.

 

Maybe we are watching the wrong leader. Years ago, the disciples watched Jesus curse a fig tree for bearing no fruit. They returned to the cursed tree to find it withered and dying. As odd as this may seem, that is the answer. If we are in a place of un-forgiveness. If we are in a place of disbelief. If we are only in fear. If we are giving our souls and our children’s souls away for the sake of social conformity, then we are not going to bear fruit.

 

We are looking at a garden full of weeds. Let’s get to work if we would bear the fruit of a new spirit. Today is the day, this is the time to rip out the beliefs that do not benefit. The systems that have failed us for years are choking our light, dead-in jobs, school, churches, government, political arguments, and agendas. If it bears no fruit it must be destroyed.

 

In Hebrews Chapter 10, the early Christians became scared of persecution and began to stop meeting. It was not easy for those who continued to meet: death was more than just a possibility. But what if in the face of imminent death, they let the seeds get overrun by laws, social norms, and fear. What if they let the only concept that would bear the great fruit of belief for the entire world be snuffed out with fear.

 

To get through, we will not be going back, but moving forward. Mourning the loss of normal can be replaced with the freedom of a new crop, new systems that empower the individual. Hack saw the weeds and reset the garden. Rip out the negative systems and the oppressive societal norms. Create something new. We must all re-cultivate our soil and plant the seeds that will bear the most fruit.

The beauty and new peace of the bloom will only come when we have made the hard decisions to focus only on those things that benefit the soul. Click To Tweet
The beauty and new peace of the bloom will only come when we have made the hard decisions to focus only on those things that benefit the soul. I want a new beginning. Fall is coming, bringing a quiet death of old ideals. As we peer around the corner toward the holidays, let us prepare our soil, believe and meditate on the future, and find a new world that we ourselves define.

 

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