I am a hopeless gardener. I never met a plant I couldn’t swiftly kill with good intentions and poor understanding of soil conditions.
Because really, it’s all about the soil conditions — at least, that’s what Google tells me when I helplessly search phrases like “Why aren’t any of my seeds sprouting? Please, I tried so hard.” I can never seem to match the right type of soil offering the right type of drainage and texture with the right plant. I can’t understand why it’s not enough to bury the seed in whatever ground is available, sprinkle some water and ask it, very nicely, to grow.
This is also a quality that makes me a poor evangelist to people who do not share my beliefs. How many times have I encountered a friend or loved one who left the faith, and I tried to coax them back by hurling Catechism passages in their direction, offering advice they never asked for and are ill-equipped to understand? I sow these seeds of witness and bang my fists in frustration that they rot where I plant them, never realizing that it’s all about the soil.
It is Christ, and Christ alone, who works within the heart. It is Christ who is the sower of the seed, not me. When I leave him out of the equation, when I fail to offer the Person and instead only offer the teaching, I can anticipate that any witness I have to offer will rot where it is planted just as sure as a tulip bulb in a bed of clay.
“...my word shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it.” — Isaiah 55:11