I’m not a farmer, but I’ve lived in the Midwest all of my life. When you’re surrounded by corn fields for that long, you know the measuring stick of a good growing year is a stalk that’s at or above your knees by the 4th of July.
This year has been a good growing year. It’s been hot and rainy and I wouldn’t be surprised if Shoeless Joe Jackson’s ghost walks out any minute (we’ll get along just fine if you caught that reference).
It’s funny how some growth is just good for everyone. I’ve never heard anyone complain about a bountiful corn yield. The average Midwesterner will actually lament about the corn to their friends and family if they believe it’s not coming along well enough at any given point throughout the summer.
But some growth is much harder to measure without an appropriate measuring stick.
We have a 5 and a half year old in the family. Much of my tearing out of my (remaining) hair is thinking about, worrying about, or trying to get her out the door for school on time. In this generation, the Disney show Bluey has been all the rage. It’s sweet, emotional, and a great watch for the entire family.
There’s an episode of Bluey called ‘Baby Race’ where Bluey’s mom (Chili) recounts her first year and the proverbial race to roll over, sit up, crawl, and eventually walk. Though Bluey is the first to roll over, a peer of hers beats her to rest of the milestones.
It’s difficult for Chili to reconcile the fact that Bluey’s development isn’t directly correlated to her ability as a parent. Eventually, Chili shares with Bluey that, in life, you just have to “run your own race.”
I’m having trouble feeling like I’m measuring up to this year’s corn in many ways. Many things in my life feel like a small sprout amidst the bumper crop of my peers.
There’s church planting (which deserves its own post). There’s my spiritual formation and walk with Jesus (which will be a theme in all of my posts). And there’s my success as a husband and father.
But woven into, above, and through all of that is where I believe I should be as a person in this life.
Though I was one of the tallest kids in my class in 7th grade, I was late in the race in most other categories. I changed my major in college from secondary education to real estate. I went back to school to change my career. I felt a call to vocational ministry late in life, so changed my career again. I became a biological dad at age 37. We planted a church at age 41. Late to or behind in the race across the board.
In Matthew 13, Jesus tells the Parable of the Sower. A farmer goes out to sow his seed. Some falls on the path, which the bird eat. Some falls into rocky soil, and though it sprouts quickly, the hot sun caused it to wither. Some fell among the thorns, which quickly choke out the plants.
Then, the seeds find what Jesus calls “good soil,” and it produce a crop thirty, sixty, even 100 times what was sown.
I don’t always know what good soil is or even where to find it. To be honest, most of the time I leave before I can realize the harvest. I’m impatient, moody, and always looking at someone else’s grass (crop), wondering why mine isn’t as green or as tall.
But I desperately want to find this “good soil” that Jesus speaks about.
Life is busy and it’s hard and it’s messy. But it’s also incomparably beautiful.
I’m going on a journey called “Table and Soil” and want to invite you along for the ride (the race). On this journey, I’ll share the successes, failures, musings, wonderings, big questions, and my wrestling with faith, career, parenting, and marriage.
This is the just the beginning. The measuring stick where the corn is knee high in some places but I’m not yet crawling in others.
Will you join me?
Table and Soil 