It’s with my lack of gardening skills in mind that I struggle every time this parable of the sower invites me to reflect on what type of soil I might be. I can’t manage to keep weeds alive, how could I possibly ever be the right kind of soil for these seeds? But, this may not be the only way to hear this parable.
What would you give to have all your dreams come true? What if every little hope could bear fruit, if all that glittered really was gold?
I also have to look times when I have perhaps led to others losing their good names and what I should do to make amends for that, if amends are at all possible.
Albert Luthuli’s story is a reminder that we still await the hour that is coming–the hour that all truth is revealed and the world is reconciled.
Why is it important for us to take a stand for those who are without rights in our society?
We tell the story, or cherish the memory, consecrating that moment in time, instead of recognizing that all of time is consecrated, and what set those times apart was the opening of our eyes.
I have to admit that when anything grows, I’m amazed. Amazed that such a small seed in the ground can transform into a beautiful, fruit-bearing plant.
What do you do with the demands on your life when they overwhelm you?
I’ve been exposed to “Love your neighbor,” but I still find it difficult to love the people behind me who let their water run onto my yard and in a place where I have to mow the result of their watering.