Something About The Soil

Something About the Soil


   It is a cool spring morning. On this Saturday I can see the maturing of my 90 year old father’s vegetable garden behind our house. The peppers, cucumbers, okra and corn are coming up out of the ground and getting bright green. The colder crops of broccoli and cabbage are mature and fading, and as they are harvested, they are giving way to the newer crops.

   My father’s affinity for the soil has been a life passion for him. There is something about getting your hands in the soil that connects you to the renewal of life. The coming of every new season gives you an opportunity to till new life in the soil.

   The soil needs tending. You have to plow and fertilize. You have to plant and wait. You need to water it when the rains don’t come. You have to fight the weeds and the bugs and the varmints as they attempt to steal your harvest.

   But the rewards can be great and fulfilling. A great sense of accomplishment comes from working the soil. Like the soil, our lives need the same sort of tender attention. We need patience as we wait on our lives to germinate and grow in the right direction. We need the fertilizer of knowledge, education and friendship to yield fruit.

   Something about working the soil also breeds humility in us. Regardless of what we do, we are at the mercy of elements beyond our control. We can plant and water, but it is always God who gives the increase.

   Anyone can put their hands in the soil, regardless of where you live or what shape you are in. Even if you plant one flower or one vegetable or tree, you should experience the process of nurturing new life. It is our best spiritual therapy and just what the heavenly doctor ordered.

   I think that today I will plant something in the little beds of soil by my front door. I need to see new buds of life and know that tending them is a sacred responsibility. There is something about the soil that makes our hearts yearn for life and life everlasting. Join me, and let’s go get our hands dirty.