Let it Be Compost, Not Just Garbage

Crap happens.

Sometimes there is just no other way to put that. Kids get sick. Cars break down. Jobs are lost. Pipes back up. We live in a world that is inclined to a state of disorder, disrepair and destruction.

It’s not a matter of if, but of when we will experience struggles and difficulties. But we get to decide what to do with those challenges. We can let it be garbage or let it be compost.

If you’ve done any gardening, you know that compost is an essential element for growing a healthy garden. It’s basically a combination of broken down organic matter. (Dead leaves, some grass clipping, vegetable peels and sometimes coffee grounds or egg shells). The thing is, if you just pile up garbage, it stays garbage. You can lay rotting vegetables and dead leaves on your plants and it might do something, but mostly it’s just going to stink and look yucky.

But when you turn that pile of garbage regularly, it helps to produce a chemical reaction. Moisture, heat, and oxygen all work together to transform that garbage into something amazing. It gets hot, and the heat helps to break everything down. Without the heat, the process wouldn’t occur. Without the turning (with a rake or pitch fork) the different kinds of material won’t combine properly and will stay in it’s current state. Without moisture it dries out and with too much the decay happens in a much stinkier less efficient kind of way.

I have had my share of garbage happen to me. Sometimes in my mind’s eye I pile it up and just look at it. The huge, stinking pile of nastiness is certainly real and has made it’s presence known in my life.

Yet, some of the worst things in my life have produced some beautiful outcomes. But only because I allowed the Holy Spirit of God to turn over those piles of garbage in my life. I need the heat of his power and holiness begin a transforming process, even in my pain.

I haven’t always done this. Sometimes I let the garbage remain. The refuse of bitterness and resentment didn’t nurture good things in my life. It just left me smelling like death.

I still struggle against this. Because compost takes time. It doesn’t happen overnight. But the more you turn it, the more quickly it transforms. So each time I’m faced with another challenge, each time I hand over my fears and my right to vengeance, whenever I trust God despite how my circumstances look, I’m letting him mold those scraps and abandoned bits of pain into a direct tool for my benefit.

They will always be part of me but they don’t have to mark me, and hold me back from the beautiful things I want to grow.