It’s 82-degrees as I sit here on my front porch, slowly clicking out thoughts while the neighbor mows his lawn. Fat bumblebees, drunk on nectar, lazily move from flower to flower on the rhododendron to my right. I watch them for a moment then stretch my fingers out–my fingernails are still brown with dirt. We just planted the garden.
This year marks my most lackluster gardening effort. My ag-enthusiasm has waned significantly this year, and I probably would have skipped the whole thing, honestly, except our dear housemate bought seeds and brought them home all bright-eyed and eager. We saw the 80-degree forecast and planned a house-wide gardening day. I couldn’t skip it.
With the sprinkler on full-blast and shrieking kids splashing and dashing around the yard, we pulled weeds, poured topsoil, and pushed dozens of tiny promises into the ground. I’m always reminded that burying and planting are exactly the same in that moment.
Then we finished. We watered. Now … we wait.
And I sat down here, on my porch, to study Scripture, searching for a solution for my sluggishness. I had said to Jeff this morning,
“I feel sluggish. It’s hard to just keep doing the same thing, over and over and over. Especially when you don’t see a lot of change.”
He spoke life over me, as always, reminding me that new things, novelty, energizes us. So we seek after new things, after novelty.
But eventually the novelty wears off … and that’s where faithfulness begins.
[bctt tweet=”Faithfulness begins where novelty ends.”]
In all areas of my life, the novelty has worn off. I’ve been married for 12 years, parenting for 8 years, speaking for 7 years, working on my book for 4 years and church-planting for almost 3 years. Though I LOVE all those things, there are certainly days I feel the lack-of-novelty most keenly. The temptation is to try something new–not a new husband, of course–but maybe new clothes, or a new vacation, or a new … anything.
But the truth is, I don’t need something new. I need to be renewed. I need God to renew my heart and mind and spirit in His presence, by His Word and with His people, to keep me persevering in the faith. So I immerse myself back in His Word and see this:
“For God is not so unjust to overlook your work and the love that you showed for his sake in serving the saints, as you still do. And we desire each one of you to show the same earnestness to have the full assurance of hope until the end, so that you may not be sluggish, but imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises.” Hebrews 6:10-12
When the planting was done and the waiting began, she pulled up. That same friend who woke me up that day, that same friend who models mundane faithfulness every day. That same friend married to a farmer with 5 kids aged 7 and under.
You think she knows about the novelty wearing off?
And she always carries life with her and hugs me, and she only has a moment to spare but she gives me that and it’s all I need.
And I’m reminded again it is His presence and His people who most powerfully renew my spirit when I am struggling with sluggishness again. It is not a new something that I need. It is the old–the old truths and the old friends who come along and point me to the promise and say:
“Remember? That’s where we’re going. Keep at it. We’ll reap a harvest if we don’t lose heart.”
And so I do. I become, once again, an imitator of those who continue in faith and patience.
I will plant. I will water. I will wait.
I will hope.
Comments