Today, as part of my church’s home-study program called “Come, Follow Me,” we read about the parable of the sower. Without trying to reword a powerful and very old story, here it is as written in the Book of Mathew:
“Behold, a sower went forth to sow; and when he sowed, some seeds fell by the way side, and the fowls came and devoured them up: some fell upon stony places, where they had not much earth: and forthwith they sprung up, because they had no deepness of earth: and when the sun was up, they were scorched; and because they had no root, they withered away. And some fell among thorns; and the thorns sprung up, and choked them: but other fell into good ground, and brought forth fruit, some an hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold. Who hath ears to hear, let him hear.”
Mathew 13: 3-9 Holy Bible: King James Version
In the parable, Jesus speaks about seeds that fall upon different types of soil. Each seed is identical, a potential for growth and life within its core. The ground the seeds fall to, however, differs in receptivity. He offers an interpretation for the different types of ground after the parable. In short, the ground represents the how a person receives His word, if they are willing or not to cultivate it. Today, I am most intrigued by the common theme of superficiality in the types of soil where the seed fails.
I believe that God wants His children to not only feel faith, but to use it. For me, I choose to express myself through creativity. I perform in shows that tell positive stories, and in my downtime, I love to write. In my novels, I weave in themes found in old religions and mythologies. I hope that by including elements of classic literature, such as the Bible, Legends of King Arthur, Greek Mythology, or even Shintoism, I can capture a magnified sense of humanity. The stories, though fantastic, feel real to me, and their moral elements feel like the offspring of a plant that’s grown out of the seed of my faith.
So, back to the soil. What can stop the seed of my faith from producing wholesome, creative works? Right now, my thoughts are sketching the image of nasty thorns. These thorns can represent any number of obstacles. Some are the shape of negative emotions, doubtful of my potential for success. Others are thoughts saying that unless I’m earning money, my creativity is worthless and justifies no sort of time consuming effort. The worst and sharpest thorns, though, are distractions: a phone left open on the table next to my keyboard, a show I keep watching during hours I’ve set aside to work, or hours I stayed up late for no reason and slept away a perfectly good morning.
Maybe I’ll till the ground of my soul a little more, believing in myself and my capabilities for creation and other means of using my faith. It’s time to prune a few thorns.
