Have you ever thought you were the one helping with the “landscaping” of another’s life? As a mom, a wife, a friend? Or maybe as a mentor to a member of your church? You felt like there was a little piece of life that you kinda-sorta had figured out, and so you decide that you might be able to be the one who’s doing the helping instead of being helped?

Then suddenly, you realize you are being dug down into—landscaped in this entirely new, raw, painful way—and there’s a gaping wound pouring out junk you didn’t even know was there.

So you say, “Yes, Lord,” and He begins a great big new work in you.

Tending the soil of my soul is a habit of mine, a rhythm I pursue because I’ve learned that being the rocky soil or the blistering-sun soil or the thorn-covered soul is a poor gig. The seeds of salvation, character, and faith are smothered, choked, and scorched. So, I tend and cultivate my soil with His Word, as often and fiercely as this crazy life allows.