The Sod

The Fourth of July found us gathered, once again, at my sisters’ lake cabin. Their families shared a tiny cabin on a postage-stamp sized lot, and we made an ever-widening circle of lawn chairs as people spilled over to the lake or into the cabin. As we staked our claim, dragging over our cooler and setting up our chairs, my sister warned, “Just be careful, that is fresh sod there.” And so, there was. A patch of bright, vibrant green. Lush and rich. Still moist from the most recent of its frequent waterings. We were careful not to drag the cooler across it or have the legs of our chairs press into its yet vulnerable surface. With everything settled strategically, we didn’t give it much thought after that.

Just a few days later, however, I awoke once again with a vivid image in my mind. It was that sod, but it was no longer lush and green. It was brown and shriveling, the edges curling up as the dried sod separated from the earth below. It didn’t take but a minute for me to grasp its meaning. It was like a new believer . . . it was my friend . . .

She had been so on fire! She was bright and vibrant, everyone who met her could see Christ in her. Her newfound faith was simply contagious and life-long Christians and new believers alike were attracted to her. She had been newly released from jail, sheltered in a half-way house with a lot of support. And then she went out to face the world. And the world was winning. Old temptations were creeping in even as the pressures to find a job, hold a job, make rent and do life were piling on, and she was struggling to bear up under them.

She lost her apartment, she lost her job. She quit going to church, she missed our scheduled visits, and it was getting harder to reach her on the phone. The light was fading. Her faith, for the moment, appeared brown and shriveled. Peeling up from the new foundation as life dragged burdens across it and trampled on it . . . and it was dying for a drink of water. Living water.

It came to me like the turning on of a light bulb. Just like that vulnerable little patch of sod, until she established roots, she needed protection and lots of water—a safe place and a whole lot of Jesus! Again, I found myself thinking about the role of the church, of believers. We were maybe a little bit like the lawn around the new sod. Not quite so lush. Not quite so green. But we could take a little traffic, we could withstand a little drought, we could take on the elements—if we were firmly rooted… In the Word. In Christ, himself. I vowed to reach out to her. To try to help her figure out a safe place. To extend a cup of fresh water. Living water. And to water frequently. So she could establish roots.

“The seed falling on rocky ground

refers to someone who hears the word

and at once receives it with joy. But

since they have no root, they last only

a short time. When trouble or

persecution comes because of the

word, they quickly fall away.”

Matthew 13:20-21 NIV

“…whoever drinks the water I

give them will never thirst.

Indeed, the water I give

them will become in them

a spring of water welling

up to eternal life.”

John 4:14 NIV

“Whoever believes in me, as Scripture

has said, rivers of living water will

flow from within them.”

John 7:38 NIV