God's Soil

In August of 1966, Ken and I moved our family from the Minneapolis suburb of St. Louis Park to Phoenix. The reason had nothing to do with climate or spiritual growth—but with completing college. Although we both came from educated families, we had elected to drop out of formal schooling. That shouldn’t be an element of self-esteem, but for us it was. He tried to go back at one point on a part-time basis but we actually had three babies at the time—aged 4 months to three years. I tried to work part-time, too—we needed money to live—but we couldn’t keep it up.

So two and one-half years later, when they were five, four, and two, he answered an ad for a job that offered a great deal of overtime—meaning that as the children grew we’d be able to save money. The plan was to finish college and return home in five years.

Now this blog posting is not going to be about our time in Phoenix. Just included that for a bit of human interest. It will also introduce the concept of soil—one of the first things we noticed about our new city was the dirt. It wasn’t black but red!

Ken had traveled a bit when in the Navy, had been exposed to the world. I’d been as far east as central Wisconsin, as far south as Des Moines, and as far west as Fargo—with a brief excursion to Montana with a youth group during which I really hadn’t noticed the soil.

At any rate, I marveled over the red dirt. It seemed impossible that anything would grow in it—but we had a cactus garden in the house we rented and our grass was green. When we purchased a home, we planted an olive tree, a plum tree, two apricot trees, a carob tree, three junipers, five dwarf natal plums, roses, a hibiscus, and two pittosporum. Along the front of the house, everything was exceedingly small—we were watching pennies—but roses grow quickly in Phoenix so they filled-in for a season.

People assured us everything would grow and it did! In fact, they flourished, and the hibiscus became my favorite—its bright red flowers bloomed throughout the hot summer when nothing else would. Thirty years later we had an hibiscus tree with red flowers in our home that lasted several years—compliments of daughter-in-law Patty. During the summers, I moved it to our deck, as pictured here. I loved it, in part, because it reminded me of that second home which I grew to love so much.

Recently, while in Custer, I picked up a placemat in a restaurant that featured soil—i.e., dirt. So interesting. Of course, one of the things it mentioned is that some soil is red. It also identified soil as a natural resource.

Anyone who thought about it would have known it was so—but I hadn’t thought about it and found it interesting. And because it’s my inclination to think along these lines, I thought about the stories Jesus told that included soil. The ESV translation of Matthew 13:8 reads, Other seeds fell on good soil and produced grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Other passages use the word ground, but I think we can safely assume that word also refers to soil.


Jesus grew up and lived in a rural setting, familiar with soil and it’s properties. He knew some was better than others. Some simply needed working or cultivation. And he compares us to soil.

Here are some interesting facts about soil taken from the placemat: cotton grows in soil, we build on soil, soil is fun, roots need soil, we depend on soil, worms live in soil, soil has minerals, soil filters water, wells are in soil, soil has texture, baseball is played on soil, soil feeds the world. In addition, from the same list, we should prevent soil erosion, protect our soil, and keep soil pollution free. (National Association of Conservation Districts, http://nacdnet.org/)

So, do we appreciate the wealth of our life in Christ—the life He planted in the soil of our being? And what are we doing to prevent erosion of our spiritual resources, to protect our walk with God, to keep our lives free from pollution?

In a way, I hate to make the spiritual applications, because the thrill of enjoying God’s provision thrills me. But it seems appropriate.

As for our family, we saved like crazy, Ken graduated from college while I did odd jobs to help (my degree came many years later.) Phoenix is where I finally entered into salvation and where many other exciting spiritual events occurred in our lives.

As for our home and plantings, the plantings did much to help us sell. And as for coming home, Ken grew up in the northeast corner of South Dakota, I grew up in west-central Minnesota, and we moved to the southeast corner of North Dakota—home.

We stayed in Phoenix a total of eight years—until August of 1974. Our impetus for moving at that time was a surprise fourth pregnancy. Wouldn’t do for one of ours to have roots outside the Midwest.

Life has it’s troubling times, but it is also very, very good. Wherever God plants us, we live on His soil so our life has incredible value. It’s a miracle. Furthermore, He’s worked in our hearts to produce His life—He’s creating us into good soil, too! And that, my friends, is another miracle.