What is it you want to grow?

He wanted to grow a cabbage. The biggest one ever, he declared as he carried his tiny plant home from the bus stop. He was waving this paper about prizes you could win if your cabbage grows the biggest; visions of farmland and blue ribbons danced behind his eyes. But here’s the thing. This suburban boy of mine? He doesn’t even like cabbage.

Here in our elementary school, at the end of third grade, they send students home with a baby cabbage plant, some instructions and the promise of prize money for the biggest cabbage. It’s turned many city boys into farmers. Sorta.

We plant the cabbage and read the directions about sun and water. I explain that if he wants to grow this cabbage, he’s going to have to do the things that help cabbages grow. Every. Day.

And he nods excitedly. Sure! Whatever it takes! I am growing some cabbage! I’m all in. 

Until about two weeks later when it gets boring and there are more fun things to do.

And then that cabbage goes a whole summer with too much sun and too much rain. And yesterday, when he finds it in the corner of the yard?  He sobs over the spindly stick in the pot. Why did it not become the biggest cabbage ever?  Why didn’t it grow?

Because you forgot about it; you didn’t do the things you needed to do to get the results you wanted to get.

Cabbages don’t grow without proper care.

And as I comfort the boy who thought he was a farmer, I realize a truth I often overlook. Growing things is hard work. And, it’s as true in life as it is in the garden. Ever tried to grow something new in your own life? A new career path, a dream, a friendship or maybe just a more balanced life where you don’t feel like you’re spinning in circles all the time?

It isn’t easy, is it?

I have much in common with my boy who thinks he can grow a prize cabbage without ever having to tend to it. Amazing intentions give way to the demands of the day. I get pulled away and abandon the simple acts of watering and monitoring sunlight.

And then I wonder why nothing grows.

Seth Godin in his book The Dip says this, “Almost everything in life worth doing is controlled by the dip. At the beginning when you start something, it is fun … and it is easy to stay engaged. And then the dip happens. The dip is the long slog between starting and mastery … The long slog that is actually a shortcut because it is the only way that gets you where you want to go” (Godin).

Ever been there? Are you there now? In the middle of a “long slog”? If you are, then you’re in good company.

I stare at the whithered cabbage plant and think about my word for this year. Grow. It sounded great in January.

But seven months later, I find myself in “the dip”. It all feels slow and insignificant.  What does growing even look like?

And then a friend sends me this email.  It’s been 10 years since we started the contemporary service at church; he writes. 10 years this Sunday. Let’s celebrate it!

And Godin’s words about work, long slogs, and dips suddenly have life in them. Ten years?

Our traditional Presbyterian church launched a venture to start a contemporary service about a dozen years ago. It was the vision of a few people and began with only a handful of us as regular attendees. It struggled, caused controversy and nearly broke our hearts in the process of coming to life.

We planted. We watered. We kept looking for sunshine. But we descended into “the dip” nonetheless. And it nearly pulled us under. But God. God had other plans.

I stare at that note and see all these ten years in my mind; the faces and events look back at me from their place in time. And it is this verse that pulses through my head

“I [Paul] planted the seed. Apollos watered it. But God has been making it grow” (I Corinthians 3:6).

I spend too much time thinking the growing is all up to me. And whether you’re working on a garden, a new way of life or a church service, it’s easy to fall into this trap. You have to do the things. But, at times, no matter how much water or sun you give the ground; week after week it can still just look like dirt.

I remember those early days of that service, how the empty seats would bore holes into our eyes each week. Hours of work yielded little visible success. We walked slowly and hung our heads as we made our way through that dip.

You’ve been there too, right? In your own life? You’ve said the things. Maybe this wasn’t meant to be. Maybe we heard God wrong.

“But God has been making it grow” (I Corinthians 3:6). Here’s a truth I am so slow to accept. God does some of his best work in “the dip.” 

When we stay in, when we keep going and seeking and trusting even through the hard things, we realize that we don’t have what it takes to do the job. And that’s good medicine for our souls.

Because now? The view from the other side of this ten years is nothing short of breathtaking. I get to look around in awe every Sunday at what God has grown. I get to see the lives he has changed; the church he has built us into. And I get to be grateful he brought me along for the ride.“Remember well what the Lord your God did …”(Deuteronomy 7:18)

So, maybe we aren’t going to be cabbage farmers around here. But on Sunday, we are going to stand and celebrate what we have seen God grow. We are going to give thanks for ten years of God’s faithful provision; we are going to remember well how he shows up when we find ourselves in “the dip”.

And then we’re going to start looking at what God wants us to grow next. Let’s just hope he isn’t a fan of cabbage.

“But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. To him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. Amen!” (2 Peter 3:18).