The importance of spring in your life.

I need to admit something to you: I’m that guy. 

I’m the guy that has already fertilized and weeded his lawn three times. And when I say “weeded,” I don’t just mean putting down some weed-and-feed (although I’ve done that). No, I’ve combed through my yard by hand, pulling pesky weeds and spraying concentrated killer wherever I can.

I take a certain pride in having a green, lush lawn. I love the way it looks, the way it feels, even the way it smells. I love the process of getting it to that point. I think it’s because working with my hands and concentrating on something practical helps me battle my anxiety and OCD. 

Recently, though, my pride turned into frustration. Despite all my early efforts this year, my yard wasn’t where I thought it should be at this time. Sure, it was a little greener than the rest of the yards in my neighborhood, but it wasn’t that much greener. Sure I had fewer weeds, but I didn’t have that many fewer weeds. 

As I sat looking at the backyard last week, I thought, “What am I doing wrong?” 

Then Monday rolled around. I walked out on my back porch and it was like something had happened overnight. The grass was taller, thicker, greener — much greener than the previous week. The weeds I couldn’t pull by hand had started to shrivel up and die, making way for my sought-after Bermuda grass. The bare spots from the rabbits had even started filling in.

As I sat there and stared like Simba overlooking his kingdom, I felt a little foolish. Not because of what I was hoping for, but because I should have known this would happen. See, spring is a funny season. Half of it is cold and rainy, while the other half is warm and sunny. I know this. It happens every year. And yet I lost sight of that. 

Friend, we are like my grass. Stay with me, and I’ll explain.

See, I think sometimes we can get frustrated when we’re not seeing change in ourselves, either externally or internally. We do seemingly all the right things. We read the right books, we listen to the right things, we say the right words, and yet nothing seems to be happening.

We look out at our lives and we see brown, dead grass. Here’s the thing, though: I think it’s in those times that something is happening below the surface, something that we can’t see.

I went and looked at the fertilizer bag again this week and actually read the back. One thing that stuck out to me is that it doesn’t just say it will make the grass greener. Sure, it will. But there’s an important aspect that I had overlooked: stronger roots. 

You know what that means? While I was impatiently waiting for the one thing I wanted most, there was something better going on below the surface: the roots were getting stronger. That’s important in the Texas climate I live in, because in just a couple of short months the temperatures are going to be in the 100s; and if the roots aren’t strong, then the grass will burn up. What good is green grass for a brief time if it just burns up at the first sign of heat? 

Let me encourage you today with this: When you’re not seeing the immediate results you want, I think God is just building stronger roots; the kind of roots that will allow you to withstand the scorching heat to come. Because just like we know what spring is like every year, we also know what summer is like. In your life, you will face the scorching heat of life’s summer. And when it comes, it’s so much better to have stronger roots. 

It’s why I love what the Bible says in the book of Romans, chapter 5, verses 3-5: 

“And that’s not all. We are full of joy even when we suffer. We know that our suffering gives us the strength to go on. The strength to go on produces character. Character produces hope. And hope will never bring us shame. That’s because God’s love has been poured into our hearts. This happened through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”

I know that may be frustrating. It has been for me at times, not just with my lawn but with my life. I’ve gone through those seasons where I don’t seem to be thriving, but rather surviving. I’ve faced those scorching hot summers and gotten burned out. It’s not fun. That’s why the spring is so important. That’s why we need seasons where we are building stronger roots.

So I ask you to trust. Trust that as we walk through this spring, God is building strong, deep roots that will allow us to withstand what is ahead. Trust that what’s being cultivated and grown beneath the surface is the only way that we can produce anything of value above it. 

And if you do that, one day soon you’re going to look out and be taken aback by the growth — the true, lasting growth — that you see.