Before the Harvest
During planting season, when rain has just soaked the ground, the farmer plows, digging furrows into his land. Then he sows, walking along each furrow, scattering seed. The seed will sit in the soil, germinate, put out roots, and begin to sprout. It will push through the soil and, eventually, grow into a head of grain.
But many months will pass before the harvest comes. There is no visible day-to-day growth. The farmer waters, but he has no way of watching underground roots take in nutrients and moisture. Patiently, each day, he trusts that one day he will have a rich harvest ready for reaping.
Still, each day’s work can feel uninspired. It’s not an uncommon feeling. In our own lives, how many days just feel routine? Unexciting? Too familiar? How often do you just feel lukewarm?
As a Christian, I know that I am supposed to “rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory” (1 Pt. 1:8), but such a joy can easily seem alien when life and all its demands press in: paper deadlines, looming exams, exhaustion. These are not seasons of intense suffering and temptation, but an average, repetitive kind of day, a mix of small disappointments and hopes. What does it look like to be faithful here?
Consider the farmer again: between planting and reaping, he waits. He must wait with patience, not expecting spectacular growth in one night, but trusting that many days of microscopic growth will accumulate. He also continues to work. He knows his crops need water and sunlight. He clears away weeds. He lays down fertilizer. None of these things will reward him immediately, but they will return dividends in the future.
In Jesus’s parable of the sower (Luke 8:4-15), the seed is the Word of God. The parable describes four types of soil—four types of hearts—and how they receive the Word. Only the last one, the good soil, endures and yields abundant fruit. Jesus explains: “As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience” (Luke 8:15). Crucially, the good soil does not only bear fruit, but does so “with patience.” Bearing fruit, even for one with “an honest and good heart,” takes time. Yet how often do we expect our spiritual disciplines to bring immediate joy or comfort or fruit?
Bible teacher Jen Wilkin gives another analogy from her book, Women of the Word1:
"For years I viewed my interaction with the Bible as a debit account: I had a need, so I went to the Bible to withdraw an answer. But we do much better to view our interaction with the Bible as a savings account: I stretch my understanding daily, I deposit what I glean, and I patiently wait for it to accumulate in value, knowing that one day I will need to draw on it."
The goal of our spiritual disciplines—including Bible reading, praying, serving, and fellowship—cannot be immediate gratification. Faithfulness is defined not by instantaneous results, but by steadfast endurance. Just because your spiritual life is not marked by an intensity of emotion, understanding, or experience does not mean you are doing something wrong. Rather, these are the seasons when you are called to deposit, to water and weed, and to trust that the Lord works through ordinary means.
What do you do when your spiritual life just feels lukewarm? Be like the farmer. Find hope in God’s promises that the heart that endures with patience will bear fruit a hundredfold. It is through patient trust in these easily forgotten moments that our lives are formed into faithfulness, one day at a time.
Ashley Kim is a freshman in Columbia College majoring in English.