Tiny Seeds.Rooted in Hope.Finding Faith.
Seeds are remarkable in their persistence, pushing through layers of soil to reach the sunlight. Their tiny arms stretch toward the sun, a tangible celebration of life and growth in hard places.
Years ago, a gardener friend shared with me her term for random seedlings that appeared where he hadn’t planted them. She called them “volunteers.” These were stragglers from previous plantings, showing up uninvited but full of life.
Despite their eagerness to grow, these volunteers rarely fulfilled their potential in his garden. She often pulled them by the root and tossed them on his compost pile.
I’ve thought about those volunteers often. These healthy plants, pulled from good soil, were reduced to what seemed like waste.
Yet these little volunteers, unknowingly, would serve a greater purpose—becoming food for future harvests.
Isn’t that how life works sometimes? What appears to be left over, unwanted or unwelcome actually becomes a building block for something new.
Growing up on a farm, my family planted a large vegetable garden annually. When I married a city boy, my gardening days were mostly limited to the occasional tomato plant on our back deck.
One year, I decided to revisit my inner gardener by planting some lettuce seeds in a recycled container filled with bags of dirt from my local garden center.
As a child helping my parents tend our garden, I had front row seat to the cycle of planting and harvesting. While years produced better harvests than others, I never doubted something would grow from the dark earth next to our big red barn.
But as I stood with my packet of lettuce seeds I was filled with doubt.
I envisioned my container overflowing with lush and tasty lettuce that I would be a staple for our table all summer.
An unexpected whisper of cynicism nagged at me. My farmer’s faith had diminished to match the size of those tiny lettuce seeds—they were small, dry and lifeless.
Haven’t we all been there? Standing at the edge of something new, seeds of possibility in hand, wondering if anything will actually grow?
Despite my doubts, I went ahead with my planting plan. I covered the seeds with a fine layer of soil, watered them, and then waited and wondered.
Within just a few days, to the delight of my hesitant gardener’s heart, tiny lettuce seedlings pushed their bright green leaves toward the heavens.
My spindly lettuce friends were soon joined by a tomato plant, and every morning I checked their progress, they were all reaching, growing, and waving in celebration! My dormant gardening skills had been revived, and my joy in the miracle of seeds had been restored.
Our walk of faith is often like me holding that packet of seeds. It is filled with questions and doubt. It can be messy and feel insignificant.
We question the purpose behind difficult seasons, times when we feel discarded, or periods of loneliness. Our faith stretches out like those seed arms, struggling to reach for life. Our hearts sometimes wilt, and our spirits become dry.
Like a garden “volunteer,” we feel a sense of uselessness or lack of purpose. What we thought would be our dream has instead become a source of heartbreak.
Life isn’t fair. It’s challenging, and I confess there are days when I grow weary of life’s difficulties. I’m especially tired of finding myself in the messy compost bin of life or seeing loved ones tossed there by a painful uprooting.
Luke 17:6 reminds us, “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it will obey you.”
In a wonderfully unexpected way, as I look forward to my little container of dirt and seeds each spring, I am reminded of how often we plant for a day yet to come and how much faith we need to keep watch and wait for the first spindly sign of growth in our lives or for those we love.
I’m grateful that what God does isn’t dependent on me. Be encouraged, my friend… it isn’t dependent on you either. We’re asked only to plant and water; He is the miracle-worker who brings growth from the seed.
Your Turn to Plant: What dormant seed of purpose lies within you, waiting for water and light? This week, identify one small “seed” of faith, purpose, or passion that you’ve set aside. Plant it deliberately.
Take one tangible step toward nurturing that seed—whether it’s making a phone call, signing up for a class, or simply writing down your intention. Then, like any good gardener, watch expectantly for signs of growth.
Remember, the Master Gardener specializes in bringing life from what appears lifeless. Your season of harvest may be just beginning.
What “seed” will you plant this week? I’d love to hear about it in the comments below. Let’s encourage each other as we grow.
Blessings-
