Slow


by Rachel Held Evans Read Distraction Free
'tree' photo (c) 2006, Akash Kataruka - license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/

I think I need to take up gardening. 

Because, to be honest, sometimes I get impatient with the Kingdom. I expect it to keep pace with my world, growing through power and money, Facebook shares and book sales, violent acts, violent words, and violent thoughts—seeds tossed on shallow, neglected soil just to get eaten up by birds. 

I’m really good at throwing seeds at birds. 

But I suspect the stories of Jesus make more sense to folks with a little dirt and flour beneath their fingernails, folks who are patient. 

The Kingdom is like yeast. 

The Kingdom is like a pearl. 

The Kingdom is like wheat growing among tares. 

The Kingdom is like a farmer. 

The Kingdom is slow. 

Kingdom seeds are mustard seeds, planted and tended in good soil. Some of them are just now swelling and splitting underground; others are breaking through the surface with a garish flash of green; others are meandering toward the sun, desperate for light or rain or some sort of trellis; others are growing slow and steady into tall shade tress with limbs like arms wide open to the world, welcoming the birds of the air to nest in their branches.

Truth be told, my little Kingdom plant looks a lot like a weed right now, more fit for bugs than for birds. 

But perhaps, if I am patient - if I don't lose hope, if I trust the soil and water it well - the tree will keep growing, and those birds I’ve been throwing seeds at will find a place to rest instead. 

The Kingdom is slow. 

Perhaps I should stop rushing it. 

Perhaps I’m not waiting on it as much as it is waiting on me. 

 

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