The Yield

Photo by Daniel Hajdacki on Unsplash

Do you observe Lent? If so, what do you hope for during this season?

I want to change so many things.  Things I dislike about family members.  Situations I want to be different at work.  Self-improvements.  Home improvements.  I wrestle with a desperation—an itch to fix things, to tweak or remake things, according to my liking. 

I want to make Lent about that.  In fact just yesterday I started thinking about how I might use Lent to focus on and pray about those things. 

Then I sat with this verse:

”Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—His good, pleasing and perfect will.” Romans 12:2

Obsessing over, worrying about, and striving after what I want to see change, that is the pattern of this world. In fact, Jesus likened the worries and the obsessions of this world to thorns that choke out our seed of faith. 

Please don’t misunderstand me: praying for and working toward change can be a powerful and righteous act. But I’m guilty of calling it “praying for” when what I’m really doing is complaining about. And I’m guilty of calling it “working toward” when what I’m really doing is nagging and fretting.

I have found that when I obsess or worry, or when I work as though it all depends on me, I feed my illusion of control.  

But Romans says, Do not conform.  Do not put on the fashion of this world: its habit, manner, or lifestyle.  Do not focus on the fleeting things.    

But be transformed.  In an essential way, an eternal way.  Cultivate change within—inside YOU. 

Truth be told, if my wishlist of changes came true, I’d likely just replace them with new ones. So maybe my focus for Lent shouldn’t be everything I want to change out there, but rather a willingness to surrender myself to the changes God wants to make inside me. To my desire for control. To my tendency to worry rather than trust. To my striving toward, rather than submitting to. To my susceptibility to prioritize fixing things over intimacy with God.

A seed is a symbol of transformation. A packet of hope. It is a tiny capsule containing everything required for life.  Inside the seed’s hard outer shell is a tiny plant that already has within it what God intended it to be. But that hard outer layer will not break open until the seed is in a safe place.

Each type of seed requires specific conditions in order for them to germinate and grow.  Some may need a few months of cold. Some may need a wildfire.  Some seeds can sleep for years before waking up.

But when the conditions are right, the seed will swell with water, and the water will crack its shell.  Then it will develop a root, and that root will enable it to grow upward toward the sun. With proper nourishment, it will completely transform into the full and glorious life it was always intended to be. 

Much like the seed, our transformation does not come through our own strength, effort or force of will. Nor does it come by fretting. The word for renewing in Romans 12:2 is the Greek word ἀνακαίνωσις or anakainōsis, and it means “a complete change for the better.” This complete change for the better comes from God when we position ourselves in conditions suitable for growth.  When we allow the living water to infiltrate our tough outer shells.  When we accept that the work to be done begins with us. 

For me this year, Lent is that opportunity. I want to spend the next six weeks submitting to that process in its fullness: in the waiting, in the discomfort, in the unsettling nature of surrender, and in the vulnerability of hope.

I would love for you to join me. Let’s detach our joy from outcomes, and return it to being in God’s presence. Let’s shift our speech from worrying words to whispered prayers. Let’s relax our grip when we feel our hearts tighten around what we most desire, and choose instead to desire most to be like Jesus. And let’s see what grows.