The Soil of the Heart: A Reflection on Growth and Spiritual Life

Last spring, I undertook a simple lawn project that would teach me an unexpected lesson about spiritual growth. I planted grass seeds in two different areas of my yard. For the first patch, I prepared the ground by adding nutrient-rich topsoil to the naturally lower terrain. For the second, I simply loosened the existing earth and scattered the seeds.

Over the following weeks, I maintained both areas with equal care—watering regularly and watching expectantly for signs of new life. The results, however, were strikingly different. The first section, enriched with additional soil, soon displayed vibrant green shoots pushing through the earth. Week after week, this area flourished with thick, healthy grass. The second patch lagged significantly behind, eventually producing sparse, weaker blades that never quite matched the vitality of their counterparts.

The difference, I realized, lay not in my efforts but in the foundation I had provided. The topsoil's promised nutrients—which I had initially dismissed as marketing claims—had genuinely enhanced the growing conditions. Superior soil had yielded superior results.

This gardening experience brought to mind one of Christ's most enduring parables about seeds and soil found in Matthew 13. Jesus described how the same seeds of divine truth produce vastly different outcomes depending on the condition of the hearts where they're planted. His teachings about abundant life, peace, joy, and love take root and flourish in some lives while struggling to survive in others.

The key factor isn't the quality of the seed—God's truth remains constant and powerful. Rather, it's the receptivity and preparedness of our hearts that determines the harvest. Some believers seem to overflow with the fruits of faith—demonstrating remarkable patience, genuine kindness, unshakeable hope, and deep contentment. Others, though equally sincere in their faith, appear to struggle with anxiety, bitterness, or spiritual stagnation.

What creates this difference? How can we prepare the soil of our hearts to receive the fullness of what God offers?

Cultivating Heart Soil

Just as my lawn benefited from enriched topsoil, our spiritual lives require intentional preparation and ongoing cultivation. Consider these essential nutrients for the soul:

Humility serves as the foundation of all spiritual growth. A humble heart remains teachable, welcoming instruction and correction rather than defensively rejecting them. When we approach life with the understanding that we have much to learn, we position ourselves to receive wisdom from Scripture, from mature believers, and even from difficult circumstances. Pride creates hard, impenetrable soil where truth cannot take root. Humility creates soft, receptive ground where God's word can penetrate deeply.

Confession acts as a cleansing agent, removing the debris that blocks healthy growth. We all stumble and make mistakes—this is part of the human condition. The question isn't whether we'll fail, but how we'll respond to our failures. Denial and rationalization create toxic conditions that poison spiritual growth. Honest confession, however, clears away the obstacles and creates space for grace to work. When we acknowledge our shortcomings before God and others, we experience the liberation of forgiveness and the opportunity for genuine transformation.

Confidence in our identity as God's beloved children provides the stability necessary for sustained growth. This isn't self-confidence based on our own abilities or achievements, but rather a deep assurance rooted in God's love and purposes for our lives. Understanding that we are created in His image, indwelt by His Spirit, and called to reflect His character gives us the courage to pursue growth and the patience to endure the process. This confidence prevents us from being overwhelmed by temporary setbacks or discouraged by slow progress.

The Divine Gardener at Work

Perhaps the most encouraging aspect of this analogy is recognizing that we're not gardening alone. God Himself serves as the master gardener, working in and through us to produce the fruits of His kingdom. Even the most barren heart can become a flourishing garden under His care.

The question for each of us remains: What kind of soil are we providing for the seeds of God's truth? Are we cultivating hearts that are humble, honest, and confident in His love? Are we creating conditions where His abundant life can take root and flourish?

The difference between spiritual abundance and spiritual struggle often comes down to this fundamental question of soil preparation. With intentional cultivation and God's faithful tending, every heart can become fertile ground for His transforming work.

Solomon: A Lesson in Divine Wisdom

I am currently preaching through the life of Israel’s third king, Solomon. As the primary author of Proverbs, he is perhaps best-known for his insight and wisdom. His acquisition of this wisdom is a fascinating and instructive story.

Near the beginning of his reign, Solomon fell into a deep sleep. In his dream, the Lord appeared with an extraordinary proposition: "Ask for whatever you want me to give you." Imagine that moment—a divine blank check, an opportunity to request anything the heart desires.

Many would have seized this chance for personal gain—wealth beyond measure, long life, victory over enemies. Yet Solomon's response revealed his true character. "I am only a little child," he confessed, acknowledging his inadequacy for the task at hand. "Give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong"

God was pleased. Not only did He grant Solomon unparalleled wisdom, but He also added what Solomon didn't request—wealth, honor, and the promise of long life if he remained obedient.

This story invites us to honest self-reflection. If God appeared to us tonight with the same offer, what would we ask for? Would our requests reveal hearts aligned with God's purposes or preoccupied with our comfort and advancement?

Solomon understood what many of us miss—that wisdom is the foundation for everything else in life. But how do we acquire such wisdom?

Solomon's story reveals four essential principles. First, we must ask for it deliberately. Wisdom doesn't come accidentally; it must be sought with intention. As James would later write, "If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault."

Second, we must recognize God as wisdom's generous source. Many mistakenly view God as reluctant to give, but Solomon knew differently. He had witnessed God's kindness to his father David and understood that God delights in giving good gifts to His children. Scripture consistently describes God as a God who wants to give.

Third, we must approach God with humble acknowledgment of our need. Solomon called himself "a little child" despite being a grown man. This childlike humility—this recognition of our limitations—creates the space for wisdom to enter.

Finally, we must value wisdom appropriately. Solomon would later write that wisdom is "more profitable than silver and yields better returns than gold... more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her."

In another of his Proverbs Solomon reveals the ultimate source of wisdom, "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." True wisdom isn't merely intellectual prowess or practical know-how. It's the alignment of our hearts and minds with God's, allowing His perspective to transform our decisions and actions. When we pursue this kind of wisdom, our lives usher in peace, hope, and joy to both ourselves and to the world around us.

In a culture obsessed with wealth, power, and pleasure, Solomon's choice stands as a timeless reminder of what matters most. Perhaps today, we too need to reconsider what we're asking for.

If you’re not a fan, take off the hat

Spring is here and with spring comes baseball season. Opening day is on the same level as a national holiday for me. From my youth I have been a huge baseball fan, and having grown up near Boston, I have forever been and will forever be a Red Sox fan. Yet living in Texas, I don't have a lot of fellow BoSox fans to celebrate with or commiserate with, but when I do meet one, I sense this instant bond. I love chatting with other like-minded fans, talking about their favorite players, fond memories, and how this season will play out. I'm always on the lookout for someone wearing a Red Sox hat or jersey and initiating a good baseball conversation.

But sometimes it doesn't always work out the way I would hope.

On more than one occasion I have encountered someone wearing Red Sox regalia and begun my spiel only to be interrupted with a response something like this: "Oh, I'm not a Red Sox fan. I just picked up this hat real cheap at a garage sale." As the disappointment sets in, I think to myself, "If you're not a fan, take off the hat!" I don't want to see someone ostensibly being a Red Sox fan and then find them cheering on the Rangers or even worse, the Yankees! In my warped fanatical mind, your clothes should match your heart. What people see and what you really believe ought to match.

That may or may not be true with our sports allegiances, but it is undoubtedly true for those of us who call ourselves Christians. As we wear the name Christian, it is important that our lives validate our conviction. We all know the damage that is done when a spiritual leader is caught in a moral failure. It seems to happen much too often, and when it does, it wreaks havoc to the cause of Christianity. But that's not true only of church leaders. It's true for everyone who bears the name Christian. If you wear the hat, your heart should follow.

The New Testament urges us to live holy and honorable lives, knowing that the strength of our witness is to some degree tied to our behavior. The apostle Peter writes to believers and encourages them to, "Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us." (1 Peter 2:12, NIV) Jesus himself tells us to, "Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." (Matthew 5:16, NIV)

As the saying goes, "You may be the only Bible some people will read, you may be the only Jesus some people will see." As disciples of Jesus, we don't just want to speak all the right words (although we do need to verbalize our faith) or wear Christian regalia (and I have a closet full of Christian t-shirts). We want our lives to confirm the message that we serve a holy God that gives true joy, real hope, and abiding peace.

Out of the shade and into the light

It’s been cold outside! Last week I walked into the office and commented that it's not fair that we have to suffer through the hot Texoma summers AND these sub-freezing temperatures. But here in Texas the snow and ice quickly melt away—except not in some places.

On my commute to church there is still a small patch of ice at one particular corner. It's odd that just about everywhere else the snow has seeped into the ground and the patches of ice have been transformed into puddles of water, but not there. And it doesn't take a meteorologist to figure out why. That little used intersection never sees direct sunlight. The trees above block the sun from shining on it and while the ice has melted all around it remains in this small patch of road that never feels the warmth of the sun.

We all go through cold and frigid seasons when our souls grow weary. Storms settle in and our hearts can grow cold. But thanks be to God the sun always comes out to thaw even the most frozen of hearts.

Even so, some remain cold because they never feel the warmth of God’s love. But unlike that shaded intersection we have a choice—a choice to move ourselves into the light and experience the ice-thawing joy of our Creator’s care.

This morning, I pray you feel it. Through our songs may the sunshine of the lyrics and the warmth of the melodies brighten your soul. In our prayers may the words we lift to God melt away doubts and concerns. May the Lord’s Supper chip away the ice of despair that can easily capture our souls. May the word proclaimed be a warm breeze driving away the chill of indifference. May the fellowship of believers defrost the biting cold of loneliness.

Thank you God for this gathering. Melt away the ice in our hearts and lead us into the glorious warmth of your presence.