Soil and Rain – Receiving God’s Blessing on Your Labor 

By Greg Grotewold 

If you walk in my statutes and observe my commandments and do them, then I will give you your rains in their season, and the land shall yield its increase, and the trees of the field shall yield their fruit. (Leviticus 26:3-4, ESV) 

For certain seasons of my life, I’ve operated under the maxim – and foolishly so – that good intent coupled with hard work will yield a result commensurate with the effort. I’ve been in one of those seasons before, a prolonged one, and discouragement mounted. The only thing my labor appeared to be producing was frustration. The harder I tried, the further away my targets got. 

It’s not that the maxim, in and of itself, is necessarily bad. The Lord expects me to labor for that which is good and right. And I have been doing just that, but here’s where my theory breaks down and my foolishness becomes evident. Extending the harvest metaphor used in Leviticus above, I’ve been diligent in scattering seed but have failed in actually planting it. There’s a fundamental difference between the two. Scattered (indiscriminately thrown) seed does nothing more than wash away when the rain comes. Planted seed, where the soil is first properly prepared, germinates. 

If God’s Word is the seed, our soul’s the soil in which the seed is placed, and God’s supernatural blessing the rain that falls on soil prepared to receive it, I shouldn’t be surprised when my efforts don’t produce a harvest. Until the ground is broken, no amount of rain is going to cause the seed to take root and bear fruit. 

I need to prepare for rain. I need to work the soil of my soul and expose that which is buried beneath the surface. I need to dig up and sever the roots of those strongholds that too often have rendered the rain useless. There’s one particular bastion that must be named; it’s called control. I have an inherent need to shape life’s circumstances and thus its outcomes. During the foolish seasons, I become relentless in my pursuit. 

I know theologically and intellectually that the Lord is the One who orchestrates the supernatural and that I am but a means through which His will is achieved. I know that. But when I’m not cultivating my soul, it, like dirt, hardens, and I become my own sovereign force. I walk in my statutes, not the Lord’s. I obey my commandments, not His. And seed washes away.        

How do I cultivate the soil to receive my season of rain? How do I prepare my soul so God can bless my efforts? How do I more consistently walk under God’s authority? Jesus makes it clear in John 15:4-5: “Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” 

I cultivate my soul by clinging to Jesus. I fasten myself to Him. I die daily to myself and pursue Him. I make myself vulnerable, acknowledging that without Him I am dust. I surrender my will and embrace His. I reacquaint myself with His full character and trust He is the God He says He is. I rest under His protective wing knowing that He loves me and wants only the best for me. I lean on Him like the utterly dependent person I actually am. I lean on Him like the utterly glorious force He actually is. And I do it daily.   

A soul that reflects that kind of reality is a soul whose labor will be met by the almighty power of the living God. It’s a soul that’s well positioned to receive the blessing of Psalm 90:17: “Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us.” (ESV) 

May we prepare for rain and secure His favor upon our labor.    

Greg lives in Oakdale, Minn. with his wife, Sandi, and their two sons, Luke and Eli. He is a deacon in his local church and greatly enjoys serving in this capacity.