Shoreless Seeds and Stardust

"To make anything — a photograph, a theorem, a poem — is to toss a handful of wildflower seeds into the wind, knowing neither the type of soil they will land in, nor the location of the landscape, nor the type of flowers that will bloom. Sometimes, oftentimes, the seeds come abloom generations or civilizations later, in minds many disciplines or cultures or experiences apart. (For, lest we forget, all that survives of us are shoreless seeds and stardust.)" Maria Popova

Yesterday we prayed with the parable of the sower from the Gospel of Matthew. 

We heard about different kinds of soil. The sermon I did not preach but is suggested and prompted by the quote above concerns one way of scattering seeds of hope which Matthew did not explain. Perhaps we are called to scatter, and to receive, seeds indiscriminately.

It can be a frightening thing to do anything with such abandon. It can be disheartening to be unable to realize the fruits of our labors with some immediacy. These responses are about our control. 

What is being described by Popova is a kind of surrender which causes real liberation. Shoreless seeds and stardust, the microscopic divinity within and around, produce the fruits of the Spirit in God’s time, in God’s space.