toddcast

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...

I don’t have a nice yard. I’ve never been good at keeping the grass thick and green. I’m not sure why but I’m sure it’s tied to some character flaw. I’m reminded of this every time I mow the lawn, and I use the term loosely. It’s more like patches of lawn interspersed with patches of dirt. As much dust and dirt fly out of my mower as grass clippings. But this mowing season there’s been an interesting development. My neighbors have a nice lawn, and an even nicer lawn this year. This spring they rooted up all their grass and had a sprinkler system installed. Then they had all new grass brought in and, with the sprinkler system working its magic, their lawn was better than ever. Each day, evidence of an early morning watering left their glittering, green lawn mocking me as I walked through my dry and drooping yard. As spring moved into summer my neighbor’s lawn continued to flourish while mine continued to wilt under the hot Texas sun.   Then one day while mowing, I noticed ...