Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Without love, you are nothing
I still feel like it is not enough.
Responsibility, respect and honor make good... rocks. Rocks to build on, rocks to develop...
But they do not make the best of soils.
I may have mentioned this once or twice, but just in case you've missed it... I hail from the proud lands of West Texas. Where the cattle roam, the tumble weeds grow, the wind frolics with the dust, and the skies are not cloudy all day. (I have a sudden urge to teach Home on the Range to my adult classes now.)
Anywho. So as I was saying. Yeah. West Texas. So here's a little fact. My hometown is classified as a semi-arid dessert. We get triple digit summers, thunder storms are our only source of rain, the wind sometimes blows dust so thick it's hard to drive and as a child I believed that grass grew brown. We have more shades of brown than you knew existed. And for as long as I can remember we have either been in a drought, or on the verge of one.
So here's a lesson on the ground in West Texas. It's not terribly great for growing things. Before the droughts were too bad, we did have a large number of cotton farms, but lately all you see are empty fields, half blown away by the wind. We have stunted mesquite trees, and most forms of plant life have thorns or needles or some other desirable trait. (Just a warning, we do not walk around barefoot in West Texas. One it's too hot. Two you'll get poked and pricked too much to get anywhere. Cowboy boots are more than a fashion statement.)
Now, when it rains, the ground get's really excited. It's been waiting for rain for so long. But the problem is, that it suddenly can't cope with all the water. So we will actually get flash floods because the ground becomes saturated too fast and can't take anymore water. The floods don't last for long, because of course we need the water as much as possible. So after a big rain, we get cracked ground. From the stress of becoming overly saturated and then just as quickly absorbing all the water. So the top layer becomes hard and flaky, at least until it's ground back into dust by traffic.
Ok, so I'm sure you are wondering at this point what this has to do with anything. I live in Japan, so I'm sure you are expecting me to talk about Japan. Too bad. This might be the only mention this time around.
The image of the cracked ground has been following me around all day today.
Because it's exactly what my heart looks like.
Cracked and dried, even though there has recently been rain.
The water is already gone. Nothing left but hard, dry ground.
Oh yes. This is exactly what my heart looks like.
Even though I have an abundance of blessings rained upon me, they dry up quickly, leaving me emotionally cracked and dry.
This is the part where I start beating myself up. The self-loathing, self-shaming and self-hatred. Yes, I really am that mean to myself.
So what's missing? Why can't I keep the water?
I have a good steady foundation of respect and responsibility and honor. But I'm not bearing fruit. Why?
“A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, ... Some fell on rocky places,... Other seed fell among thorns...Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown"
Hmm. What's this? The quality of my soil is bad?
I have no nutrients in my soil to give life to plants. I don't have the correct balance of soil composition to hold the water and use it well. I don't have someone tilling and breaking apart the stones and putting in fertalizer.
In other words...
I lack love, and joy, and peace: the things that bring forth life.
Respect and responsibility and honor are important, very much so, but they alone cannot bring forth life.
I'm hoping this new season of my life will be a season of tilling, and fertilizing, and mixing in nutrients into the soil of my heart, so that one day I may be fit to bring forth life.
Not just life...
Abundant life. Seeped in joy, watered in love, and coated in peace.
Bring on the tilling.