Parable of the sower.

Ten years ago when we moved into our home, we left most of the landscaping undone.  That fall we spent hours and hours(and hours!) amending the soil from it's original claylike, rocky state.  We dug and dug until we hit rocks, dug them out, tossed them aside and, when we thought we'd filtered out all the rocks we added some compost, peat moss and manure to make the soil more suitable for planting.  It worked-those garden beds have hosted box woods, arborvitae, lilies, tulips, hyacinths and various other evergreens, perennials and annuals that have graced our landscape during all the months of the year.

Life's been busy and although we've weeded and maintained existing plants, we've neglected to add compost as needed so, as I planted a few pansies last spring and dug holes to accommodate them, dozens, no, hundreds of pebbles turned up in the soil I removed.  Where on earth had they come from?  

No matter, there were scriptural life lessons to be learned.  Here it goes: the seed(or, in this case, pansy plant) is perfectly good.  It needs only a good spot of earth in which to thrive.  Unfortunately, years of neglect can turn what was once fertile soil into an unsuitable environment for any plant.  The rocks crept in, without fanfare, because I had not been paying attention.

How often do we allow false ideas, or bad habits to crowd out the good, giving little place for the seed of the gospel to thrive?  Do we falsely assume that because the seed grew once upon a time that it would continue to do so, regardless of our lack of attention to the earth in which it was planted?  Can we expect to see fruits of the gospel when we've allowed incompatible ideas to crowd out the truth that was once unspoiled?  (These are rhetorical questions, obviously).

Sometimes I wonder if our modern society and absence of connection with the earth denies us repeated opportunities to appreciate vital lessons from the scriptures.  I'm grateful that my time in the garden that day reaped not only rows of pansies, but a gentle reminder to root out the "rocks" that would stifle my spiritual growth.