After being out way past our bedtime, Kip was fighting to stay awake as his eyelids grew heavier. Just then, Pastor Ryan called on him in front of a packed sanctuary to agree with a statement about farming: If you plant tomato seeds but get corn, you didn’t plant tomatoes. You reap what you sow. Since we had been busy planting corn the week before, we laughed at the thought of growing tomatoes.
In his Sunday series on spiritual disciplines, Pastor Ryan spoke about enduring. He referred to Galatians 6:7–9:
“Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. Whoever sows to please their flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction; whoever sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”
This planting season has brought another year of uncertainty. March was dry, but the guys stayed busy—preparing planters and sorting seed. Once again, farmers began sowing seeds in faith, trusting the rain would come at just the right time. While the weather is unpredictable, one thing is certain: without planting the seeds, there can be no harvest.
My mind returns to a quote by Dr. David Kohl: “The greatest crop you’ll ever raise is your children.”
And I begin to wonder—what am I sowing into my girls?
I can’t control their lives or predict the trials they’ll face, but I hope to sow qualities that will help them grow and endure. You reap what you sow. Am I planting seeds of love and kindness? Contentment and perseverance? Am I sowing qualities that will help them be successful in life while putting others first? Am I teaching them to love God above everything or just when it is easy?
The days are long, but the years are short. Toddlerhood is a wild ride. Being consistent with discipline, boundaries, and modeling how to live can feel impossibly hard some days. Raising children is a never-ending planting season. And the only guarantee is this: if we fail to plant, there will be no harvest.
In both the field and the family, the principle remains the same: you must endure to reap what you sow. The harvest doesn’t come overnight—it takes faith, patience, and persistent care. And of all the seeds we’ll ever plant, none matter more than those we sow into our children. They are our greatest crop, our most sacred field. So even when the days feel long and the labor seems hidden, I will keep planting—trusting that, in due time, the harvest will come.
