It’s been a week of sowing seeds and of being sown. I feel the seeding within myself as God’s small hard fruits land and take hold in the soil of my soul. This sowing is not new. He has repeatedly scattered seeds with reckless abandon upon the landscape of my heart. On all the different terrains with deep or shallow soils, among my weeds and along his path, often divergent to my own, he has broadcasted his grain. And then he waited. God can afford to be extravagant with sowing seeds.