Breaking Ground

“That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.”

— Psalm 1:3

Mental health is a lot like gardening.

The idea of a garden sounds beautiful, as you picture the flowers, the peace, and what you hope to grow. You can imagine creating something that becomes completely yours. You can see it before you ever touch the dirt.

But then you actually have to start the process of gardening, and that is where it gets real.

This year, I decided I wanted to plant sunflowers in my yard. I usually grow hot peppers, but I wanted to do something different. Gardening is one of my favorite hobbies because I love watching tiny seeds grow into something beautiful. Of course, the only place in the yard with the most sunlight also happened to be the hardest place to break ground. The dirt had been packed down and untouched for over twenty years.

But I wanted the flowers there to thrive in the sunlight, so that is where I went.

The minute I started digging, I remember thinking, Oh Lord, what did I get myself into?

The day was hot, and I was already thirsty, even though I had barely done anything. The ground was stubborn and hard to work with using my gardening tools. But my husband showed me what to use to break up the dirt, and once I trusted the process and started working the ground the right way, things slowly began to shift.

Gradually, I began to see progress in my efforts, and what first felt impossible started looking like something I could do.

And then I hit the roots.

Big ones. Old ones. The kind that had been buried deep for years and were not coming out without a fight.

The roots were from bushes and small trees that had been removed years earlier from our yard, but what was left underneath was still tangled through the soil. I had to pull hard to get them out, and while I stood there wrestling with those roots, I instantly saw the connection between what I was doing and what God had been teaching me.

Awareness is where healing begins because we cannot address what we do not recognize. In my life, God has often opened my eyes to what was hidden beneath the surface before helping me change my heart, habits, or relationships. Not to shame me, but to lovingly reveal what has been there all along so healing can begin at the root.

Old pain. Old habits. Old ways of surviving that once made sense but no longer help you grow. They sit there quietly, taking up space where something new is trying to take root. One of the things God brought to my attention in my own life was that my reactions to present-day situations and challenges weren’t always about what was happening in front of me. Many of them had roots that stretched much farther back than I realized.

You cannot plant healthy seeds on top of tangled roots. Eventually, the old roots have to come out before something new can grow.

For me, it felt like pulling at something that had been buried in my life since I was five years old.

~ ~ ~

Out there in the heat, I found myself thinking about how different this experience would have been years earlier, when pills and alcohol kept me from being fully present. I felt grateful for the years of sobriety behind me and for the ability to experience this moment with a clear mind.  

I finished planting those sunflowers tired and proud. It was challenging, but I did it anyway. I broke ground, planted the seeds, and watered them to help them grow and thrive.

Standing there, I realized just how much had changed. I was no longer escaping my life. I was fully present in it.

~ ~ ~

That is how healing works too.

We do not always get to choose where we have to break ground in our lives: the thoughts we believe, the emotions we carry, the wounds we’ve experienced, and the habits we’ve developed along the way. We also do not get to pick which roots are the deepest or which ones are closer to the surface. We only get to decide whether we are willing to start digging when they begin to show themselves.

Starting is usually the hardest part of a new project or a new way of life because you cannot see progress right away. You have to trust that working the ground matters long before anything beautiful begins to grow.

But the ground does soften. The roots can come out.

New soil can be added. Something new can really grow there.

Beauty comes after the breaking. Not instead of it, but through it.

So, wherever you are right now in your awareness of your mental health—whether you are staring at hard ground or already mid-pull on a root that feels bigger than expected—I want you to know this:

You do not have to have it all figured out to begin.

You just need to be willing to start.

~ ~ ~

A moment to reflect

Before answering the questions below, take a quiet moment to think about an area of your life that feels difficult, resistant, or untouched. Rather than looking for quick change, simply notice where God may be inviting you to start breaking ground.

What area of your life has hard, untouched ground that may be ready for something new?

What is one “root”—an old pattern, belief, or habit—that has been taking up space in your soil?

When the work gets challenging, what do you tend to reach for? What do you wish you had reached for instead?

A quiet prayer

Lord, give me the courage to start anew, even in the places that have been hard and untouched for a long time. Help me trust the process. Help me pull up what needs to come out and plant what You are calling me to grow. Amen.

Digging deeper

If this reflection resonated with you, you may enjoy learning more about:

·          Self-Awareness

·          Core Beliefs

·          Stages of Change

·          Emotional Triggers

·          Origins of Behavioral Patterns