Without fail, I’m pretty much mouth-open astonished when something grows from a pile of dirt.
EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
The skeptical gardener…that’s me.
I pour ugly-looking dirt in a pot; I sprinkle some super-tiny, incapable-looking seeds into that pile of ugly-looking dirt; I drown them in water; and then I think a string of dubious thoughts that are hardly esteem-boosting for my meager seeds.
Are these really going to grow?
This was a dumb idea.
I bet they’re gonna die.
Why am I even attempting this?
I’m sure I did it wrong.
Real supportive, huh? If I were my seeds, I’d probably jump soil and find a more supportive environment…like in my husband’s garden where confidence and belief join together and make a boatload of vegetables that
torment provide summer-long sustenance.
About two weeks ago, we decided we’d continue our Easter tradition of planting our annual Resurrection Garden with the kiddos.
I’m sure you can only imagine my compounded doubt when my son (the one who was tossing random grass seed and flinging piles of soil) and his MaeMae (the grandmother who might be known for killing
plastic no-fuss, house plants) were the ones in charge of planting the seeds.
I’ll spare you all the skeptical thoughts that blistered my belief but suffice to say, I wanted to celebrate the risen Savior with risen grass, but it was lookin’ and feelin’ a little sketch.
But six days later, when our grass sprouted in record time, my grass seeds punched my unbelief right in the face.
I ran downstairs and excitedly exclaimed, “Caden! Caden! Come upstairs!! Our grass is growing!!!” He must have inherited his daddy’s gardening genes because he didn’t seem surprised at all.
But to my doubting self, it was nothing short of a miracle, and I was elated.
And as I marveled over the miracle of our growing grass, the Lord reminded me of another miracle that had taken my heart by surprise…only three days prior to this one.
I can’t share all of the details on here, but let me just say this.
One of the areas in my life that has felt the deadest to me, sprouted new life.
I had doubted that things would ever change.
I had doubted that there would ever be healing.
I had doubted that there would be anything good that would ever come from this seemingly dead and dark place.
I had doubted a miracle.
And though I have spent the last few years asking for His help and begging for His healing, I was surprised when the help and healing sprouted.
I was surprised by the miracle.
And as I sat there looking at our newly sprouted grass while marveling at the miracle I had desperately needed but pretty much doubted, my heart was drawn to another set of doubters.
I imagine that as the disciples stood at the foot of the cross where their friend, their teacher, their king, and their savior hung, I don’t imagine that belief is what they saw and hope is what they felt.
The cross was dark; His death was brutal; His body was dead; and the tomb was grim.
Hope was waning; hearts were discouraged; and doubt was taking over.
How do we know?
Well, because three days later, when Mary Magdalene runs to the disciples with news of the resurrected Savior, they struggled to believe.
But when they heard that He was alive and had been seen by her, they would not believe it. Mark 16:11
And he said to them, ‘Why are you troubled, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself. Touch me, and see…And when He had said this, He showed them His hands and His feet. And while they still disbelieved for joy and were marveling… Luke 24:38-41
The disciples, like me, doubted the miracle that they desperately needed.
But because of His work on that cross…dead things grow.
Because of His work on that cross…healing is a reality.
Because of His work on that cross…miracles are possible.
In January, I claimed this verse on our family chalkboard…
Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. Isaiah 43:19
In February, I claimed this verse…
He has made everything beautiful in its time. Ecclesiastes 3:11
And in March, I experienced the miraculous collision of these two verses in a way I had never expected.
In His perfect timing, He truly made a dark place beautiful and sprouted a new thing.
So this Easter, as we remember His sacrifice and reflect on His resurrection, may we lay our deadest, darkest, most hopeless places at the foot of the cross, trusting and believing that He is still in the business of working miracles.