Seeds

"He said, 'To what shall we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable can we use for it? It is like a mustard seed that, when it is sown in the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on the earth. But once it is sown, it springs up and becomes the largest of plants and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the sky can dwell in its shade.' " - Mark 4:30-32

We recently built a garden at our house. And like most gardeners, we quickly found that we have rabbits that like to eat what we've planted. Luckily, my Grandpa had been a farmer, and then a gardener before he died. He also kept everything - including chicken wire. So when we needed to wrap our garden with something to keep the rabbits out, it was a quick visit to my Grandma's house to grab one of the many rolls of chicken wire out of the shed, and bring it to my house.

I didn't really realize the connection I was making to my Grandpa until my wife and I had gotten most of the chicken wire up (and, of course, the requisite trip to the local hardware store). I realized that, at some point in the past (and very likely before I was born), my Grandpa was doing the same thing to his garden - with his hands, holding that very fence, for the very same reason. I am lucky enough that, while I was young, I still have small memories of him, working in his garden, hearing his laugh and seeing him smile.

I've found that doing the same things that my family members have done (both past and present) is a way to grow in my own faith. Like fencing in a garden, it provides a very real connection to my past. Watching plants grow from a small seed into a harvest of produce gives me the same sense of accomplishment they felt so many years ago. It's also a good reminder of how important it is to continue to grow in faith. That faith - like a seed - takes effort to grow. But, more importantly, it takes time. A mustard plant doesn't grow overnight, but rather takes a long time and a lot of effort to grow. And once it's grown, it takes constant work to keep it healthy, but that it's worth it for that sense of accomplishment, that sense of connection to our past.

But that also means our faith will not grow if we fail to give it effort and time - that, like a plant, it'll slowly wither and die off, disconnecting us from our past and from our God. And while God certainly doesn't want that, faith, like a garden - requires both the gardener and the plant to work together.

Thankfully, I know that, provided I keep up my end of the bargain, I know that I'll eventually see my Grandpa again, hear his laugh, and talk about gardening - and that makes missing him a little easier.

Did I mention he fished too? :-)