What if I decided to embody the theology of the compost, trusting death would never win and all things would be made new, with the help of forces I couldn't even see? - Jeff Chu, Good Soil
Thank you for sharing how the book speaks to your life experience. Based on what you have written (very insightful!), I am sure that you would enjoy reading the book. I could only share some of the parts that were particularly meaningful to me. There is so much more from Jeff Chu. You will do yourself a big favor if you put Good Soil on your reading list!
Thank you. This really spoke to me, Pastor. One of your best reflections ever! It should be published. As a gardener and a Lutheran, your words were so relatable.
Oh … yes. I read this in the barely cool of early morning while on the back porch of my little house in a poor Southern city, looking out at the oasis of life and beauty that is my modest backyard. Among the natives I have planted for the natives are splashes of wildly imported color and a small raised bed of edibles grown from scraps and dollar store seeds. And a compost pile. Into it have gone completed ambitions, wildly impossible dreams, contented days, and fearful nights. And constantly at work are the worms, and crawlies, and microscopic beasties that turn those things into new things for new purposes. Thank you for sharing this insight.
Thank you. 🙏
Gratified that it was helpful to you, Diana.
Thank you for sharing how the book speaks to your life experience. Based on what you have written (very insightful!), I am sure that you would enjoy reading the book. I could only share some of the parts that were particularly meaningful to me. There is so much more from Jeff Chu. You will do yourself a big favor if you put Good Soil on your reading list!
Thank you. This really spoke to me, Pastor. One of your best reflections ever! It should be published. As a gardener and a Lutheran, your words were so relatable.
Oh … yes. I read this in the barely cool of early morning while on the back porch of my little house in a poor Southern city, looking out at the oasis of life and beauty that is my modest backyard. Among the natives I have planted for the natives are splashes of wildly imported color and a small raised bed of edibles grown from scraps and dollar store seeds. And a compost pile. Into it have gone completed ambitions, wildly impossible dreams, contented days, and fearful nights. And constantly at work are the worms, and crawlies, and microscopic beasties that turn those things into new things for new purposes. Thank you for sharing this insight.