Fallow Seasons

As a farmgirl, winter always frustrated me. Though it provided a welcome break from the busyness of planting, growing, and harvest seasons, it seemed like wasted time. There was an equally frustrating and seemingly oddly timed occurrence in January: the arrival of the Gurney seed catalog. I paged through the pictures of lushly growing vegetables and vibrant flowers as I tramped through the snow back to the farmhouse. I often stood at the kitchen window, seed catalog in hand, gazing out at our snow-covered garden plot, planning for spring.

What frustrated me further was the glaring fact that planting season was six weeks away, at best. Now was the fallow season. As I looked down at the photos of verdant gardens and gazed out at the gray-brown garden plot, I longed for sunshine and the smell of freshly turned earth. Here in January’s fallow season, it looked like nothing worthwhile was happening. However, beneath the surface, something vital was happening.

As the soil lay fallow all winter, it was regenerating, refueling for another season of growth and productivity. In the dark, quiet cold, it was doing the silent work that soil does. The soil was breaking down nutrients and organic material to fuel itself in the coming days.

In nature, we easily recognize winter as the fallow season. Similarly, a spiritually fallow season may follow spring, summer, and harvest times when we have expended great effort, energy, and time to complete a major project. It may follow a taxing time that stretched us, required much of us, and called us to greater depths of trust and surrender.

Perhaps you’ve completed a book, written a Bible study, or finished a major ministry project.

Maybe you’ve recently down-sized or your last child has left the nest.

In Scripture, our hearts have often been compared to soil, so it stands to reason that He also brings fallow seasons to our souls. Like the soil, something deeply significant and necessary is happening in our souls in fallow seasons. It too is re-energizing and refueling for days of deeper growth and productivity. Just as the soil quietly does its work in fallow seasons, this too is our season to do the quiet work in hidden places that refuels us and makes us strong.

Now is the season for doing the hard, silent work in the secret place. We delve even deeper into the ancient, yet timeless, words of truth. We revisit life-giving practices that melted away in the heat of go-time. We settle back into the Scriptures, plumb its depths, and shore up slipping foundation stones. We pray, listening for His direction regarding our next season of growth and productivity.

Fallow seasons have a purpose. Without them, our souls become exhausted and depleted. We have nothing left to give because we expended so much to complete great work in His name.

Fallow seasons don’t last forever. Just as the bleakest of winters melts and blossoms into spring, so it is with the fallow seasons of the soul. There will be time for breaking up the fallow ground, sowing new seed in the freshly turned earth, but now is not that time. Though the fields now lie dormant beneath the snow, they will buzz with life and dance in the sunshine once again. However, now is the season of renewal and the important, yet quiet, hidden work of the soul.

“To everything there is a season…”, the Scripture says. This fallow season is equally from His hand as is the vibrance and celebration of summer. This fallow season is His gift. May we embrace it as such, and rest in His providence when it is January in our souls.