(Growing by Dying – notes from a talk)

 

The first sketches I sketched as a young girl, were of trees.

I never thought I’d paint any other subject. I’m still surprised over the peace I experience in the process of portraying postures of women, redemptive,

It feeds my soul.

Tall pines, big oaks, pecan laden and my favorite in my grandmother’s front yard …the shade providing chinaberry.

Trees are complex. They aren’t easy to capture the likeness of.

I sat quietly in my “morning spot”, a chair in the corner of the living room, a chair that was my mama’s, that was fancy for her double-wide in the country.

She’d bought it at a yard sale. I grabbed it up quickly when she died, I wanted it to live with me, I wanted the beauty of her choosing a fancy chair for her not fancy home, to be something I would never forget.

In a way, a seed she left for me to believe that a life can be pretty despite poverty, that there is always opportunity to believe in finding beautiful things. 

I’ve had that chair since 2010. I have heard from God sitting there, thoughts formed, hopes and solutions have come.

I have prayed, I have cried, I have napped from exhaustion sitting straight up in this chair.

Before I knew, was tenderly surprised to be asked to speak here, God told me one morning, in a reply to my heart’s longing to know why it seemed I would never be enough, never achieve enough, never be able to see myself as healed and not a victim of so much and so many things. 

The words from God, the gentle awakening? 

“Lisa, your soil is not healthy.” 

Time passed and I sort of tossed the thought around. Thought of all the things I had planted through my life, my children, my marriage, my work for others, my art, my sharing of my words…

“Seeds” in a way, efforts and actual accomplishments that I contributed to the soil of my life, the things that were from my heart and my soul.

The truth of that very odd thought, my soil not being healthy,

simply would not fade. 

Months from the first wrestling to understand the meaning, I have begun to make sense of the strange statement.

So, I want us to consider whether our soil is healthy.

I googled “healthy soil” and “what causes trees to die.”

One answer drew me closer.

THE SOIL MAY BE COMPLICATED.

I made a list of complicated seeds in the soil of my life. 

One list, things and circumstances beyond my control, even generational curses and a second list of traits, qualities and choices I have planted and continue to plant.

I realized there were a whole bunch of seeds that needed to die, no longer needed my failing attempts to bring life from brittle seeds or to keep nourishing and watering what I selfishly or naively chose to decide had to live forever…

there were seeds of my sadness that needed to die.

There are seeds of my history that I’ve let mark and destroy my hope for far too long. 

Consider with me, what your soil, your soul is full of, seeds planted in you beyond your control and marked by sadness, trauma or likelihoods of how you might or might not grow.

Then consider what you’ve planted, tried to force the growth of or coddled and overwatered…

something that needs to be let go.

Because it’s not so much the THINGS that destroy us, stunt our growth, It’s the THING(S) UNDER THE THING(S)!

The seeds entangled in our roots.

My list: 

This process requires bravery. I’ll be brave first. 

SEEDS THAT MUST DIE TO ALLOW GROW

• SHAME that dies becomes freedom to live.

• SELF-DESTRUCTIVE PATTERNS that are put to death give permission to receive abundantly and to believe you’re worthy to.

• UNWORTHINESS that dies leads to confidence/confident in God not others.

• ABANDONMENT that is allowed to die and be grieved leads to deeper trust and intimacy in relationships.

• VICTIM MENTALITY finally laid down leads to an ease in living and breathing and to breaking generational cycles, a legacy of safety and love uncompromised by negative mindsets.

• FEAR that doesn’t live but dies builds courage (quiet confidence is your strength, this is the way) keep moving steadily forward.

• NEED TO CONTROL given up from an unclenched grip to let die leads to surrender (open hand to heaven).

• BITTERNESS disallowed and put to death yields mercy toward others.

• JEALOUSY that’s snuffed out before it grows invites kindness and sincerity in our thoughts and words.

• COMPARISON that ceases breathing gives breath to abiding oneness and ownership of the uniqueness of you.

 

I began to research what the Bible says about seeds and found many passages.  I’ll just stick to the one familiar to many.

The Parable of the Seeds (the first recorded parable) 

“And he was teaching them many things in parables, and in his teaching he said to them: And as he sowed, some seed fell along the path, and the birds came and devoured it. Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and immediately it sprang up, since it had no depth of soil.

And when the sun rose, it was scorched, and since it had no root, it withered away.

Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain.

And other seeds fell into good soil and produced grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirtyfold and sixtyfold and a hundredfold.”
‭‭Mark‬ ‭4‬:‭2‬, ‭4‬-‭8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

God is sovereign and very aware of the times, every detail of our lives.

When I began thinking of what to share in speaking to women, I had no plan to write about my mama’s chair or the beautiful growth I might see as I surrendered the seed of grief attached to the story of an old yard sale chair and allowed myself to see the beauty of me possessing it.

On the outside and above the gnarled and tangled roots, our lives like a tree may be spectacular or just seem healthy and vibrant.

In time though, the “COMPLICATED” soil of our souls may lead to decay, destruction, and depression. 

Every time we share our vulnerabilities lined up with our hopes for healing, we point someone else toward the path of fullness, light and redemption that they glimpse in us.

Truths on the significance of the soil of my soul being healthy, free of the thorns of despair or despondency over past wounds continue to reveal themselves to me.

Walking with my grandson, on the rocky clay road bordered by deep ditches and steep hills covered in brilliant moss, music from my phone in the atmosphere…I paused to shake off a heavy mood.

I quoted to myself a verse that’s meant to turn the tide, a proclamation…

No weapon formed against me shall prosper.

And I walked on, pushing the stroller, the little strawberry blonde head in my view, a pair of tiny feet bouncing to the beat of “Skip to My Loo”.

I walked slowly and thought…

But Lisa, what about the weapons you continue to turn on yourself.

And I stood still with the weight of that call to consider this truth.

Wounds are thorns that become tools, weapons of sorts for us to decide there’s no hope for us,

No outcome other than the expected one we’ve known, the time to grow is over

A life without woundedness is one you’ll never get to know.

There are some weapons we continue to use in fear because of proven past failures against the waiting patiently hope and permission to grow.

Wounds become weapons and weapons stunt our growth.

Wounds become weapons that we turn inward, that we decide are evidence that we’re not allowed to dream, disallowed from hope.

So ask yourself, message me and I’ll send you the tree as a prompt.

How healthy is my soil?

Which seeds are deep and should not be kept alive? Which seeds must die?

Is there woundedness in your life that you turn on yourself to stunt your growth, to destroy your hopes?

In quiet confidence is your strength…this is the way.

Walk in it.

 

Continue and believe.

You are loved.