Coconut
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Now this is my kind of lesson!
Ministry of Manure
-By James Ryle
“Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it.” (Luke 13:8).
It has happened to all of us sometime or another. Usually in the spring time, but not exclusively. Fact is, it can happen anytime, and almost anywhere – even when and where you least expect it. Indeed, the more unlikely the place and time, the more astonishing it is to our unsuspecting senses. In particular, our sense of smell.
You wake up on a cheerful sunlit morning to new mercies and a fresh cup of coffee. Birds are singing in the trees, and a few friendly neighborhood noises hum in the background – giggling kids jumping on a trampoline, a one-eyed dog barking at a squirrel, and the drone of a lawn mower a block away. You step out the front door to greet the day and – wham! The full bodied aroma of rural America has been dumped somewhere in your immediate proximity, and you are located directly downwind.
Though no cattle have been seen in these parts for nigh unto fifty years, it smells like a truck load of ‘em spent the night two doors down, laughing and drinking and having a party. Piles of manure – fertilizer they call it these days – sit in the middle of the street waiting for the lawn crew to disperse it with creative dispatch in a newly landscaped yard. As far as you’re concerned, right now would not be soon enough.
You can’t breathe, at least not through your nose, ‘cause the smell will make your eyes roll back in your head. And you dare not breathe through your mouth, ‘cause that almost feels like your eating something. So you gasp with hands cupped over your face, and your eyes go crossed for lack of oxygen. Strangely enough, however, you somehow adapt to the odor and manage to make it through the unsolicited ordeal. And when its all said and done you see the worth of it in the lush, award-winning landscaping just down the street. Who knows, you might even order a pile or two yourself seeing how well things turned out.
Jesus told a story along these lines one day. "Once upon a time,” He said, “a man had a fig-tree growing in his garden, and when he came to look for the figs, he found none at all. Disappointed, he said to his gardener, 'Look, I have come expecting fruit on this fig-tree for three years and never found any. Better cut it down. Why should it use up valuable ground? This is space we can use for something else.' And the gardener replied, 'Master, don't touch it this year till I have had a chance to dig round it and give it a bit of manure. If it bears fruit after that, it will be all right. But if it doesn't, then you can cut it down.'" (see Luke 13:6-9).
The old King James puts it this way, “Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it.” The phrase literally means “to dig all about it, and throw manure throughout it.” In other words, this was not going to be a neat and tidy job, wrapped up in a few surgical minutes. No, it was going to be prolonged, deliberate, disruptive, messy, and stinky.
Do you see any similarities to how your life has been lately? If so, be of good cheer, you are undergoing the Ministry of Manure. It seems that each one of us sometimes need our roots exposed, and a good dose of compost packed about us in order for us to grow strong, and become our most fruitful best.
Manure is the "black gold" of the gardening world. It contains a rich and wide range of minerals and nutrients, providing the three main chemicals all plants need -- nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium. In addition, manure also adds to the composition of the soil and promotes easier and healthier root growth. So, seeing its great value, why wouldn’t the Lord use it on us?
The Holy Spirit digs about our lives to expose our roots. He orchestrates those invasive things that disrupt and overturn us, and He supplies those unpredictable people who frustrate and upset us – all to make sure we are trusting in Christ alone. Paul wrote, “Let your roots grow down into Him and draw up nourishment from Him.” (Colossians 2:7).
If you and I draw nourishment from any other person or thing, it will be uncovered and corrected. And it must be, if we truly want to be the very best we can be.
When we put our trust in man we will always be disappointed. Our hopes will fade, our effectiveness diminish, and our lives become aimless. In fact, we become so preoccupied with what others have promised and failed to deliver, that we lose our ability to see the good that comes from God despite our duplicity. We sulk and sag in silence; praise long having left our hearts and lips. Such is the estate of those who look to the arm of flesh for deliverance.
But when we trust in the Lord, He commands rich blessings upon us. Here is what He told the prophet Jeremiah, "I will bless the person who puts his trust in Me. He is like a tree growing near a stream and sending out roots to the water. He is not afraid when hot weather comes, because his leaves stay green; he has no worries when there is no rain; he keeps on bearing fruit.” (see Jeremiah 17:7-8 GNB)
Are you trusting in Man or in the Lord? Is your heart set upon riches? Is your confidence in the flesh? Here comes a shovel! Are you trusting in your abilities, your looks, or your own wit and charm? Here comes a herd of cattle! My friends, if we seek stability and security in anything other than Christ, or look for safety and significance in any one apart from Him – the scoop and the poop are just around the corner.
“To what purpose” we ask, “is all this digging and dunging?” Nothing but this: that we might be strong and fruitful. Would you really want the Lord to leave you alone? Would you be content to settle for less than you could’ve been? To accomplish less than you could’ve done? Surely not!
So bring it on, Lord; dig me and dung me! Burrow deep into the unseen places of my anxious heart, and leave not a single root holding on to anything or anyone other than You. And then pack the manure deep and wide, and pile it high as the sky! Don’t let me be a flimsy perfumed man – pale and weak, bending to the whims and fancies of this fallen world. Make me like a tree planted by streams of living water, that brings forth fruit in season. Make me a prosperous man, whose leaves never wither. Amen.
There was a bird that lived in Canada. One winter he announced to the other birds, “I’m not flying south for the winter. I’m staying right here!” All the other birds said he was crazy, but he answered, “You’re the ones that are crazy. You’ll get down south, turn around and fly right back up here again next year. What’s the point?!”
The other birds took to flight and left him behind.
Wondering what winter in Canada would be like, the lone bird was pleasantly surprised at the stretch of Indian Summer that lingered long into the fall. “Aha!” he said to himself, “I was right to stay. This is wonderful!” But then, winter hit full force in the middle of December. Shuddering in the cold the silly bird finally realized, “I must hurry and leave before I freeze to death!”
He took to flight and made it as far as Montana. There, in mid-air, he froze up and tumbled to the ground; landing in a farmer’s barnyard. “Oh, what a stupid bird I am,” he moaned to himself. “I should’ve flown south with all the other birds, but now I am about to die.”
Just then a cow in the barnyard strolled past the fallen bird and without realizing it dropped a big cow-plop right on top of him! “Oh, this is just great,” mumbled the buried bird. “It’s not bad enough that I’m about to die; now I’m covered with cow manure!”
But then he noticed something he had not expected. The warmth of the plop actually began to thaw him out and restore him to life. “Why, what do you know about that?” said the bird. “This ain’t so bad after all!” Then he began chirping and singing under the pile of poop.
Meanwhile, the barnyard cat was passing by and heard the sound of singing coming from the pile. Curious as a cat can be, he pawed around in the pile and uncovered the thawed bird. Their eyes met, there was a silent moment of suspense, and then the cat ate the bird.
The moral of the story is three-fold. First, not everyone who dumps on you is your enemy. Second, not everyone who cleans it off is your friend. Third, when you do get dumped on, it is best to keep your mouth shut.
The bottom line is this. When the chips are down, the Lord is up to something good. Take heart, and place your trust in Him. You’ll be blessed in every way.
Ministry of Manure
-By James Ryle
“Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it.” (Luke 13:8).
It has happened to all of us sometime or another. Usually in the spring time, but not exclusively. Fact is, it can happen anytime, and almost anywhere – even when and where you least expect it. Indeed, the more unlikely the place and time, the more astonishing it is to our unsuspecting senses. In particular, our sense of smell.
You wake up on a cheerful sunlit morning to new mercies and a fresh cup of coffee. Birds are singing in the trees, and a few friendly neighborhood noises hum in the background – giggling kids jumping on a trampoline, a one-eyed dog barking at a squirrel, and the drone of a lawn mower a block away. You step out the front door to greet the day and – wham! The full bodied aroma of rural America has been dumped somewhere in your immediate proximity, and you are located directly downwind.
Though no cattle have been seen in these parts for nigh unto fifty years, it smells like a truck load of ‘em spent the night two doors down, laughing and drinking and having a party. Piles of manure – fertilizer they call it these days – sit in the middle of the street waiting for the lawn crew to disperse it with creative dispatch in a newly landscaped yard. As far as you’re concerned, right now would not be soon enough.
You can’t breathe, at least not through your nose, ‘cause the smell will make your eyes roll back in your head. And you dare not breathe through your mouth, ‘cause that almost feels like your eating something. So you gasp with hands cupped over your face, and your eyes go crossed for lack of oxygen. Strangely enough, however, you somehow adapt to the odor and manage to make it through the unsolicited ordeal. And when its all said and done you see the worth of it in the lush, award-winning landscaping just down the street. Who knows, you might even order a pile or two yourself seeing how well things turned out.
Jesus told a story along these lines one day. "Once upon a time,” He said, “a man had a fig-tree growing in his garden, and when he came to look for the figs, he found none at all. Disappointed, he said to his gardener, 'Look, I have come expecting fruit on this fig-tree for three years and never found any. Better cut it down. Why should it use up valuable ground? This is space we can use for something else.' And the gardener replied, 'Master, don't touch it this year till I have had a chance to dig round it and give it a bit of manure. If it bears fruit after that, it will be all right. But if it doesn't, then you can cut it down.'" (see Luke 13:6-9).
The old King James puts it this way, “Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it.” The phrase literally means “to dig all about it, and throw manure throughout it.” In other words, this was not going to be a neat and tidy job, wrapped up in a few surgical minutes. No, it was going to be prolonged, deliberate, disruptive, messy, and stinky.
Do you see any similarities to how your life has been lately? If so, be of good cheer, you are undergoing the Ministry of Manure. It seems that each one of us sometimes need our roots exposed, and a good dose of compost packed about us in order for us to grow strong, and become our most fruitful best.
Manure is the "black gold" of the gardening world. It contains a rich and wide range of minerals and nutrients, providing the three main chemicals all plants need -- nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium. In addition, manure also adds to the composition of the soil and promotes easier and healthier root growth. So, seeing its great value, why wouldn’t the Lord use it on us?
The Holy Spirit digs about our lives to expose our roots. He orchestrates those invasive things that disrupt and overturn us, and He supplies those unpredictable people who frustrate and upset us – all to make sure we are trusting in Christ alone. Paul wrote, “Let your roots grow down into Him and draw up nourishment from Him.” (Colossians 2:7).
If you and I draw nourishment from any other person or thing, it will be uncovered and corrected. And it must be, if we truly want to be the very best we can be.
When we put our trust in man we will always be disappointed. Our hopes will fade, our effectiveness diminish, and our lives become aimless. In fact, we become so preoccupied with what others have promised and failed to deliver, that we lose our ability to see the good that comes from God despite our duplicity. We sulk and sag in silence; praise long having left our hearts and lips. Such is the estate of those who look to the arm of flesh for deliverance.
But when we trust in the Lord, He commands rich blessings upon us. Here is what He told the prophet Jeremiah, "I will bless the person who puts his trust in Me. He is like a tree growing near a stream and sending out roots to the water. He is not afraid when hot weather comes, because his leaves stay green; he has no worries when there is no rain; he keeps on bearing fruit.” (see Jeremiah 17:7-8 GNB)
Are you trusting in Man or in the Lord? Is your heart set upon riches? Is your confidence in the flesh? Here comes a shovel! Are you trusting in your abilities, your looks, or your own wit and charm? Here comes a herd of cattle! My friends, if we seek stability and security in anything other than Christ, or look for safety and significance in any one apart from Him – the scoop and the poop are just around the corner.
“To what purpose” we ask, “is all this digging and dunging?” Nothing but this: that we might be strong and fruitful. Would you really want the Lord to leave you alone? Would you be content to settle for less than you could’ve been? To accomplish less than you could’ve done? Surely not!
So bring it on, Lord; dig me and dung me! Burrow deep into the unseen places of my anxious heart, and leave not a single root holding on to anything or anyone other than You. And then pack the manure deep and wide, and pile it high as the sky! Don’t let me be a flimsy perfumed man – pale and weak, bending to the whims and fancies of this fallen world. Make me like a tree planted by streams of living water, that brings forth fruit in season. Make me a prosperous man, whose leaves never wither. Amen.
There was a bird that lived in Canada. One winter he announced to the other birds, “I’m not flying south for the winter. I’m staying right here!” All the other birds said he was crazy, but he answered, “You’re the ones that are crazy. You’ll get down south, turn around and fly right back up here again next year. What’s the point?!”
The other birds took to flight and left him behind.
Wondering what winter in Canada would be like, the lone bird was pleasantly surprised at the stretch of Indian Summer that lingered long into the fall. “Aha!” he said to himself, “I was right to stay. This is wonderful!” But then, winter hit full force in the middle of December. Shuddering in the cold the silly bird finally realized, “I must hurry and leave before I freeze to death!”
He took to flight and made it as far as Montana. There, in mid-air, he froze up and tumbled to the ground; landing in a farmer’s barnyard. “Oh, what a stupid bird I am,” he moaned to himself. “I should’ve flown south with all the other birds, but now I am about to die.”
Just then a cow in the barnyard strolled past the fallen bird and without realizing it dropped a big cow-plop right on top of him! “Oh, this is just great,” mumbled the buried bird. “It’s not bad enough that I’m about to die; now I’m covered with cow manure!”
But then he noticed something he had not expected. The warmth of the plop actually began to thaw him out and restore him to life. “Why, what do you know about that?” said the bird. “This ain’t so bad after all!” Then he began chirping and singing under the pile of poop.
Meanwhile, the barnyard cat was passing by and heard the sound of singing coming from the pile. Curious as a cat can be, he pawed around in the pile and uncovered the thawed bird. Their eyes met, there was a silent moment of suspense, and then the cat ate the bird.
The moral of the story is three-fold. First, not everyone who dumps on you is your enemy. Second, not everyone who cleans it off is your friend. Third, when you do get dumped on, it is best to keep your mouth shut.
The bottom line is this. When the chips are down, the Lord is up to something good. Take heart, and place your trust in Him. You’ll be blessed in every way.
