Turning the fresh earth in our vegetable garden, I met a new teacher today. On my knees with a small hand spade, digging up weeds that were trying to get a head start in the garden, I began to notice a pattern. Dig around some plants and the roots, those shallow and broad-spread came willingly and allowed themselves to be tossed to the side with little effort. But others were determined to hold on to life and would fight hard to not let go. In time, pulling those pernicious plants out of the ground, I would find one last tiny root dangling with one hard lump of clay surrounding it’s white sliver. Left alone even in that abnormal state, that plant would survive for days. For inside that hard clay is the moisture the plant could survive on if necessary until the rains came again.
The next time I find myself wondering why God allows me to live through some tough times and endure some hard days, I’m going to remember that root that had dug into the hard soil knowing that the hardness is exactly what would allow it to survive hard times. Plants growing in hard soil must grow some deep roots to survive. And so too with my own soul. Loose soil will quickly fall away when shaken; but the hard soil, once embedded with roots of persistence, can sustain life through some difficult times. These days, I find even the soil has something to teach me about life. May it keep me humble to know how simple a teacher I only require.
