Good Dirt

Before I get all philosophical, I'll catch y'all up with where I am.  In the past 6 months, I've experienced all the highs and lows of being a platoon commander.  I have the privilege of caring for and being mentored by some of the funniest, most interesting, most dynamic people I'm sure I'll ever meet.  We've seen the disappointment of alcohol-related incidents and the pride of awards and recognition for outstanding achievement.  I've been to South Korea, Tokyo, and Osaka, and I'm getting ready to head up a detachment going to Darwin, Australia for six months.  Thanks to each of you who has prayed and sent good vibes in my direction! Now, back to your not-so-regularly scheduled blog:

I can't credit myself with these profound words, but they're profound nonetheless:

You aren't the gardener who tends and tills and causes things to grow.  You aren't the reason there is new life and you aren't responsible for affecting the newness of change.  All you have to be is good dirt; be good, fertile soil where the roots have a chance to take hold and bloom.

I probably speak for many of you when I say I've heaped an unbearable weight on my shoulders, and now that I'm smack dab in the middle of a uniquely challenging season of life, that extra weight is especially burdensome.  As I continue to try to work myself out of this ebbed season of life, I make myself more exhausted, become more self-centered, and avert my focus from ensuring I'm good dirt where the Lord can do his work.

Men wiser than me echo everything I have said or will say, but in this time and in this era, we cannot forget that we are not the Gardener.  We are not the Shepherd.  To entrust ourselves with that much power and that much responsibility is unrealistic, exhausting, and disastrous.  What a relief it is to know it's not my responsibility to affect change in the lives around me.  All I have to be is good dirt.

I don't have to work toward salvation, I just have to be good dirt.

I don't have to do my own tilling, pruning, or planting, I just have to be good dirt.

Each slip-up, each triumph, each hard lesson, justifies the grace of the cross.  He came "not to call the righteous, but sinners" (Mark 2:17).  The cross is where the weight of our disobedience and the heaviness of our burden are so gracefully and unselfishly placed upon our Savior's shoulders.  The cross is not for the perfect and certainly not for the righteous. The cross is for the sinner in desperate need of the life-changing grace of Christ's sacrifice.

Friends, whether you're like me and beat yourself up for falling short of the unrealistic expectation of perfection or you're indifferent about sin, our God is not one who relies on you to do his work.  Regardless of the season, regardless of your talents, and regardless of where you find your center, He will complete his work and good will always win.  We are so deeply loved by a Father who is utterly unshakeable.

Never lose heart, y'all.  Just be good dirt.