Swimming for Sticks

These may just be words to you, but to Dusty, they convey a specific meaning. One of the special walks we do together is at Crathes Castle, where we basically walk from one water source to the next and I dutifully fling sticks into the water which she enthusiastically retrieves.

Enthusiastic doesn’t do justice to the joy and excitement this dog has over a swimming for sticks walk. It is probably what her ears itch to hear daily. When the second stick goes into the water (she only ever leaps in on the second stick going in, and then tries hard to herd both sticks into her mouth and back to the shore), she races and leaps with absolute trust and abandon into the water source.

She reminds me of a young child who loves to stand a few steps off the ground and fling herself into her daddy’s waiting arms. She knows her dad and trusts him not to let her fall. Dusty is full of faith that she is leaping into a safe place, too, where there awaits a welcoming landing, and that the exercise will refresh and invigorate her.

As we age, many of us grow cynical and hard, disappointed by life and other people, sometimes doubting that God is always good, or that he does love us. In the Bible, Hosea wrote to the people of Israel, ‘Plant the good seeds of righteousness, and you will harvest a crop of love. Plow up the hard ground of your hearts, for now is the time to seek the Lord, that he may come and shower righteousness upon you.’ 

I’m in the middle of the summer months and beginning to flag a bit on keeping up with my garden. It’s a lot of work. Planting isn’t easy in itself. The ground has to be dug over, weeded, manure dug in, and then the good seeds planted. It needs to be watered on the rare dry days. Even gathering in the harvest is tough: I’m about to head back out to pick raspberries – a joyous task as they are so delicious, but still, taking an hour or so every day, not to mention time spent making jam or freezing or baking with them. 

So how do we plow up the hard ground of our hearts? 

I’m looking back to Jesus, who advises his friends, ‘...if you remain in me and I in you, you may ask for anything you want, and it will be granted. When you produce much fruit, you are my true disciples.’

How do we produce good fruit? 

I think it’s misleading to compare it all to the actual garden outside, because in the Kingdom of God the plowing and the breaking up of the hard ground all happens as we marinate in the Word of God, as we remain and abide in Jesus. He tells us his yoke is easy; he is the one pulling that plow through the hard ground of our hearts. 

As we learn to be still with him, to remain and abide in him, the hard ground of our hearts is softened. Seeds of righteousness from him drop into those fertile hearts, and watered by his presence, his Word, and prayer, they begin to grow and produce fruit, a harvest of righteousness which brings glory to God. He does it. We sit with him and allow him to do it. 

And the more we do that, the greater peace we know, the greater is our faith that when we race towards God and launch ourselves with great abandon in his direction, he will, indeed catch us.

These are the prayers that he answers. The ones he plants in our hearts. The ones we trust him to take care of. 

Lord, help me to fling myself at you today, knowing in my heart that you are just waiting for such enthusiasm and faith, and you will catch me.