I hope this finds you all well in this week of rain and humidity. What a change! Also, I do apologize for not sending out enews last week.
Linden and I recently purchased a house in Contoocook, I am very pleased and grateful to share. We look forward to a house blessing with you sometime soon. As we go about the process of making this place our home, the lack of rain, and now the rain, have drawn my attention especially to our plants and lawn.
It really was dry! The lower parts of our lawn got pale, and stopped growing. The grass under a couple low trees crept upward at a glacial pace. The grass in the higher parts of the lawn became brown and would powder away if walked on. The weeds did what they do best and kept growing anyway. It all reminded me of Jesus' so-called Parable of the Sower, and the different fates of seeds scattered on the path, the rocky soil, among the weeds, and in the good soil. (spoiler alert: all the seeds besides those on the good soil are in trouble)
I was most attentive to the grass that was powdering away to dust. Part of this was my new homeowner brain and visions of the toil of reseeding. But at least equal to this was simply my sense of responsibility to what I had been given, and a sadness for the grass that was dying. Two conspicuous patches were total goners in my estimation.
I quietly cursed whomever had graded the land, and whomever had seeded inappropriately, and my own failure to be the watering-savior.
But this wasn't a "Kingdom of God" parable, like that of the sower.
After not one, not two, but three days of rain, small new leaves sparse as infants hair pushed through the dust. A few roots had been deep enough to put forth new life after a time of death.
It was a resurrection parable!
Even what I thought was dead...what appeared quite dead in comparison to its neighbors...had deeper roots than I had understood.
I guess this could be offered as an "object lesson"; a story to keep in my pocket about the power of resurrection. But to me it was a "parable"; a story that breaks open what I think I have all figured out about life, and causes me to wonder at the larger movements of God.
It opened me to wonder about the rest of this complex little piece of Creation that Linden, Laurel, Julian and I have become stewards of. I wondered as I mowed the lawn about which "weeds" might also be "native wildflowers". Which were non-native and delightful anyway? Who has stewarded this land previously and how? What would it look like to make reparations to the descendants of the Native people whom my ancestors took this 0.68 acres from hundreds of years ago? What plants could most bring it alive today?
The Parable of the Deep Roots tells me that whatever the answers are to my questions, there is resurrection in them, just waiting for the rains of imagination, prayer, care.
It's good to have some rain and humidity, at least for my grass, and my spiritual imagination.
May you stay dry out there, and get wet out there, as you choose. And God reveal himself to you in all of it!