What’s in your dirt?

I used to fancy myself a gardener—back when I actually had a garden. Since moving to a house with more trees and shade than topsoil, my gardening has consisted of rearranging the monkey grass as to keep the yard from washing away. I’ve been rather successful with hostas (which isn’t saying very much). But lately, my cast-iron plants, which are reputed as indestructible, are looking, well, rather shabby.

My old yard had two vital natural elements: full sunshine and fertile soil. Many years ago, the yard had been a cow pasture up on Shades Mountain. Geoff and I spent our first year there putting all the St. Augustine grass clippings into the small garden plot at the back of our long grassy backyard.

Back then, I personally had two vital natural elements: time and energy. Geoff hand-tilled the plot; I took over the planting, hoeing, weeding, watering, and harvesting. For several summers, we enjoyed fresh green beans, cantaloupes, corn on the cob, lettuce, purple hull peas, and watermelon.

Earlier today, I was out in my back yard after a long rain-soaked morning planning to tool about in the flower bed that looked the most despairing. The damp soil should yield to the shovel better than usual, so I attempted to thin out and perhaps transplant my cast iron plants to a happier location.

During our six years here, Geoff and I have done much to amend the soil. We have leaf-mulched, pine straw mulched, and tried re-routing the sloping run-off. Our small patch of grass has actually doubled in the last year or two, but where we have managed to enrich the soil, the weeds have rapidly invaded.

A couple of months ago, I pulled hundreds of cherry laurel seedlings. About that many have returned since. These seedlings rapidly grow into bushes and, left uncut, will create a jungle of trees under the present canopy of oaks, sweet gums, and poplars.

The first analogy for my soul-soil is that its depth must be cultivated over time. Richness of spirit and soul does not come in one heavy dump truck load of spiritual activity, but over the steady and gradual composting of rich spiritual matter.

Another application comes from the observation that weeds flourish in good soil as much as flowers do. The healthier the soil, the more inviting for all seeds. A similar caution must be present in my soul. Enriching my soul will call for an expanding of my horizons and extensions of my boundaries past my comfort zones. In doing so, I must combine enrichment for the health of my soul with filtering mechanisms, such as accountability and consistent Bible study, for its protection and purification.

I do not believe God wants Christians to “play it safe” by circling the wagons and existing within a Christian “ghetto.” In the parable of the talents, the master chided the servant who played it safe by sitting on his talent and hiding it from the world. No risk meant no gain.

So, what’s in your dirt? Chances are, if the soil is rich enough to grow flowers, there will be some weeds that need hoeing as well. And that’s a good sign of a healthy soul-garden.