Breaking up fallow ground (part II)

For my first Mother’s Day, Joel and I planted a couple trees in memory of Hezekiah, and we called them our ‘Hezekiah trees.’

The soil in Montana, especially in our uncultivated yard, is not good soil.

As Joel dug holes for the trees, a blizzard was very quickly blowing in, and so we rushed to get them in the ground, and their supports set up (Montana is very windy).

There are multiple factors that we believe went into their not surviving, and having not broken up the ground well and mixing in good soil is on the list.

Last Saturday evening we tried again. We bought two more trees, dug new holes, and this time I broke up the clumps of ground before we piled it back on, and mixed in some good soil donated by a neighbor.

Joel was surprised by the difficulty of digging the holes…and when I first started to break down the clumps with my hands I quickly realized my hands lacked the strength and stamina.

Breaking up fallow ground is difficult work. We know going in that it’s going to be hard, but worth it. But when it’s even more painful and exhausting than expected, in unexpected ways too, temptation arises.

Temptation to quit isn’t so tempting to me…but temptation to put in minimal effort is; or to rush through the process. Temptation to say ‘This is good enough’, to settle, and to allow my desire for instant gratification, immediate relief to blind and deafen me to my original purpose and desire.

I’ll even rationalize that perfectionism is a sin, and it’s good for me to not seek perfection, no one is perfect. But then I quickly hear my dad’s voice saying, ‘It’s better to do it right the first time, then to have to do it again.’ Or in the case with the trees, ‘then to have them die again.’

My barre instructor will often call out during the most difficult parts of class, ‘You know change is happening when you are uncomfortable! Trembling, quivering, shaking are outward symptoms of inward transformation!’

We need this reassurance in the midst of the difficulty. We need this truth spoken to us in the midst of the temptation. We need to be reminded of our intentions we set at the beginning.

We need one another.

And we cannot rightly love, serve, pray for one another without knowing one another.

And we cannot be loved, served, prayed for by one another without making ourselves known to one another.

In barre class, the physical, outward signs are there for all to see (and hear!) that transformation is taking place, that we are currently in a state of great discomfort, and that we are each tempted to seek relief and escape. There’s a comradery as we see and hear each other hold out to the end. There’s also a sense of comradery as each one of us calls it quit early, and others follow as if permission has been granted.

What are the outward signs of struggling through this ‘breaking up fallow ground’?

Unless we share our burdens with one another, confess our struggles, seek help in our temptations, how is the Body of Christ to know its members need reassurance, need Truth proclaimed, and need to be reminded why we are enduring?

In the counseling that I’m going through, part of ‘breaking up fallow ground’ has come up in very unexpected ways. I thought those sections of ground had been broken up long ago, and have been well-cultivated and nourished since.

My counselor has been very gentle, wise to ask questions to clarify, to not assume she knows what I'm trying to say, and to be praying for insight and understanding in my answers and my questions, and to be asking the Spirit to use her in His awesome work healing.

Last week I found myself stopping, considering, examining ‘Do I REALLY believe _?’

Had I rushed through her questions and comments and just gone with my instant, shallow response, ‘Of course I believe _! I’ve always believed _.’ I would have shortchanged myself, my counselor, and the mighty work of the Holy Spirit.

I believe this in my mind, I profess to believe this, but do my actions, do my feelings suggest otherwise?

I hesitate to even ask myself about my feelings. After 40+ years of priding myself on not ‘following my heart’, all of a sudden I’m seeing how I’ve neglected a huge part of what makes me human, what makes me created in the image of God.

When God calls us to believe Him, He calls us to believe Him with our minds, with our bodies (actions), and with our hearts (affections, emotions, feelings).

Breaking up the fallow ground of my heart, my emotions, my feelings is brutally hard. And terrifying.

It’s terrifying to remember in high school, before I dammed up my feelings, how there was no sense of control or understanding when and how long the floodgates would open. I absolutely despise feeling out of control - even uncontrollable laughter causes great distress.

But in order for there to be true and complete healing, this dam needs to be destroyed, obliterated. I can no longer take refuge behind it. I must acknowledge and confess that I’ve been taking refuge in this distorted idea of self-control. This false refuge needs to be utterly destroyed, never to be rebuilt; so that I can truly take refuge in God alone.

This is going to be a messy, humbling, disrupting process. I do not know how long it will last, or how many more times I’ll have to go through it.

I need to be reminded that I must go THROUGH this in order to love my LORD, my God with all my heart, soul, mind, strength.

I need to be told, repeatedly, the truth that my LORD, my God is with me, will be with me through it all.

I need to be reassured that He who began this work in me will bring it to completion, perfect completion, in His way, in His timing. He will surely do it.

- To God be all the glory, honor, and praise.