deliberate neglect

   As I was preparing a seedbed yesterday to plant a small nursery of chestnut trees, the thought came to me that this plot of ground represented "deliberate neglect".  I had grown vegetables there for several years and then had let it go fallow to give it a sabbath year of rest.  Of course it was quite overgrown with weeds and it took a bit of effort to clear the weeds and get it ready for growing the chestnuts.  But it was pleasing to see how nice and workable the soil was after allowing nature do her work.  Although that patch of land looked untidy and unattractive, nevertheless something very beneficial and restorative was happening all along.  Billions of micro-organisms, as well as insects, worms and nematodes had been at work, feeding on the decaying carbon matter as well as on each other, in an intricate give-and-take that characterizes every ecological niche of creation.  And it all results in greater soil fertility and a structure that can more easily absorb and hold on to rainwater. The weeds that grew there not only added their above ground foliage to the carbon matter that would end up as humus, but their roots, left to rot below the surface also added nutrients and food for the micro-organisms that thrive below the surface of the soil and also contribute to its overall life and health.  All these benefits, and more, from "deliberate neglect"!

   What encouraged me the most, though, in considering these things, was to realize that I was seeing a picture or metaphor of how God has been working in my life.  I could so easily become discouraged that "nothing is happening", that somehow I've missed God and my best years are behind me.  When so much time passes without seeing any fulfillment of promises God has given in the past, doubt and discouragement can begin to eat away at one.  It feels very much like deliberate divine neglect.

Is it possible, though, that just like the fallow ground that is overgrown with weeds and is looking anything but productive, that in reality something really is at work, unseen to our human eyes? Although death and decay is rampant in the ecosystem of the soil, that death is actually establishing the very foundation necessary for new life.  I call it the oxymoronic nature of truth.  To gain life one must give it up.

   "Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it abides alone.  But if it dies, it brings forth much fruit . . ."

  "That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, . . . being made conformable unto his death . . ."

   "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me! . . . Into your hands I commit my spirit."