Unless the seed dies

Unless the seed dies

          Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies,
          it remains just a single grain;
          but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

                    — John 12. 24

What are you afraid of?
What are you holding onto?
What are you holding on for?

Let all things be,
let them be right there,
without having to hang onto them.

The last thing you let go of is your
self. This hard-shelled seed of who you are
you are trying so hard to build up

into something great and false.
Trying to build a fruit tree
out of sticks.

Let it go. Each moment, each breath,
surrender your favorite self.
Let it fall

into the earth of our being, the home
of our bones. All of our falling
is into God.

When at last the fist of your life
is opened, the grave of your heart
dug deep enough, and empty,

when you let the breathing darkness
and your unguarded nothingness
spill into each other

then something miraculous grows in you,
and out through every pore,
to the edge of the world:

a completely new and different life,
begotten, not made, that gives life,
that doesn’t look like a seed at all.

You don’t need to hang onto it.
It can’t be killed. Its roots
are in God.



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