November 12, 2013
Seed-Planter
As I sample different apple varieties, the seeds
popping out when I cut into them make me think of Johnny Appleseed – the
legendary John Chapman, who planted apple trees and orchards across America. I
know this pioneer seed-planter saw some of the fruit of his labor, because he
made return trips to the orchards he planted. In one way or another, we today are
still reaping the benefit of his labor. I’m now considering picking spiritual
fruit from trees planted decades ago by our Christian forefathers. While I have
this image of the Apostle Paul being the spiritual Jonny Appleseed of his day,
I do wonder what history will reveal about the seeds planted by our generation.
“I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow.” (1Cor
3:6 NIV)
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1 comment:
Gail;
-----Our present lot is in a great shake-bag. Some of it is life, some of it is death. Some is wisdom, some foolishness, some knowledge, some deceit. It is made of effort and slothfulness, loyalty and treason, fellowship and prejudice, love and hatred. The never ending flow of events and circumstances shakes, shakes, shakes, shakes the bag until everything is all over everything else. The chaos of it would coax one into laying down and quitting.
-----I am sure Johnny Appleseed didn’t skip along throwing precious seed about helter-skelter. Do I remember pictures of him using his walking stick to poke the ground with holes into which he would drop seed? I don’t know. Maybe my memory is corrupted. And I’m not going to spend precious time trying to find out. For I know that I am part of the shake-bag, too, so lots of things more important than what Appleseed did with his walking stick are all mixed up inside me. And by the mixing of what is shaken, all my seeds dropped or poked, good or bad, will turn into their soils and take root the same. The truth will sort me out a bit more by the sight of what grows.
-----“Let God be true though every man be false…” (Rom 3:4) I suppose I am a man. I propose I am shaken. And that is good. None of us are perfected before our time. Having first the Spirit for fruit, we groan inside for God to adopt us at the cashing in of our bodies. (Rom 8:23) So I know history will observe thorns and thistles and mulberries and pomegranates and larkspur and cockleburs and tangelos and coconuts and hemlock and ragweed growing from the seeds of even the best of this generation, and from mine. None of us plant only weeds. None plant only fruit. And it matters not whether we just toss it or carefully drop it into cultivated holes. The shaking of the bag stirs it in well.
-----So, as Christ forgives my dropping rancid seed I have heart to broadcast more fruitful seed. And as I struggle to empty the rancid of my pockets into every fire I pass, I try to fill them with the fruitful at every oasis garden I seek. Sometimes I’m more purposeful than others. But always I wash down my desire for better with a large swallow of refreshing effort. Then I take comfort in being little known so the Lord will get the glory for the fruit grown, and hopefully the origin of weeds I spilt will become lost in the shaking of time.
Love you all,
Steve Corey
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