Sowing in the Desert
I love Psalm 126, because it enters this reality of what it’s like to sow in tears. Psalm 126 is a communal lament and is one of the Psalms of Ascent that were sung by the people of Israel along the long, hard road to Jerusalem. The context is after the people have returned from Babylonian exile, but amidst the reality that their city and nation is not what it once was.
“1 When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion,
we were like those who dreamed.
2 Our mouths were filled with laughter,
our tongues with songs of joy.
Then it was said among the nations,
“The Lord has done great things for them.”
3 The Lord has done great things for us,
and we are filled with joy.
4 Restore our fortunes, Lord,
like streams in the Negev.
5 Those who sow with tears
will reap with songs of joy.
6 Those who go out weeping,
carrying seed to sow,
will return with songs of joy,
carrying sheaves with them.”
Like this Psalm, the journey hangs in the tension of the already and not yet. This passage is book-ended on the one end with praise and celebration for where God has been faithful in the past (vs 1-3) and ends with a promise for what He will do in the future (vs. 5-6).
But in the middle in verse 4 is a petition in the “not yet.” God has not yet answered their prayers. They are not yet reaping with songs of joy.
Sandwiched between verses of praise is a lament cast into the ground like the seed itself:
“Restore our fortunes, Lord, like streams in the Negev.”
In the middle, we are invited to sow in tears.
The Negev was a dry riverbed 11 months out of the year. There was little to no life in this dusty place most of the time. Many of us can relate to this. It’s the space between the spring and autumn rains—the arid silence of the desert heat. The place where we must sow in the cracked ground and the only water available is our own tears.
The Psalmist is pretty raw and open with the fact that planting can be painful. Sowing can be costly, it can be arduous. There is real spiritual resistance when you plant the seeds of your dreams —losses, failures, and struggles happen along the way.
Some scholars say that sowing seed was often closely associated with the Ancient Near Eastern practice of burying the dead. Farmers would often weep as they planted the seed into the ground.
Why? Because seed at that time was precious, scarce, and valuable. So, to put it into the ground was a risk, an act of trust—not too unlike starting a new ministry, or sowing faithfully into the lives of the people in your church or family. Or - sowing prayers of hope for God to grow something new in you. Maybe a dream, or a child, or a future you envision.
But, regardless of the uncertain outcome, the sower must trust that this is what she is supposed to do. Fruit doesn’t crop up on its own after all; it must be sown by the smallest, most seemingly insignificant thing. But if this small thing is the most valuable thing you have, it can be painful to put it into the ground. When we sow what is most precious—our time, our gifts, our hopes, our dreams, and our vulnerable prayers—we die so that something else might live.
The Negev in verse 4 was indeed a dry riverbed most of the year. But when the winter rains finally came in that twelfth month, it would become a raging river, transforming the desert into a lush, green landscape filled with life—a complete transformation.
Is this not our petition for the lives and ministries and world that we sow into? For God to bring the surging rain that yields complete renewal? For deserts to be transformed into green, life giving pastures?
The reality is that the seeds will lay dormant underground until the rain comes. We cannot control the transformation that happens within our ministries or even our own hearts any more than we can control whether or not it rains.
So here we find ourselves in the not yet—waiting and petitioning for God to intervene on behalf of our friends or family or ministries or finances or jobs or dreams. In this place, we are invited to stay faithful—to keep sowing in tears and laying ourselves down in trust to God. And a beautiful exchange happens as a result. In due time, God takes those little seeds and transforms them into life-giving, fruit-bearing plants and turns deserts into lush landscapes.
There is a promise in Psalm 126 that when we sow in tears, we will indeed reap with joy in the harvest, laughing with songs of joy.
But will we join the psalmist in petitioning God for rain in the not yet? Will we have the patience to wait so that we might witness this transformation when the rain comes in that twelfth month? I hope so, because I believe the tears and pain in the waiting will pale in comparison to the songs and laughter and joy in the harvest when it comes.
“He that sows in tears is the likeliest to have sheaves worth gathering.”
So here’s your next step…
Reflect: Name the Already and the Not Yet
Name the Already: What are ways You’ve seen God at work in the past? How have you seen Him come through before in your life that remind you of His faithfulness? How has He provided for you?
Name the Not Yet: Envision a future beyond where you and the world currently are. What would it look like for God to transform the desert landscape into a lush and green one?
Enter into petition in the Middle: Look deeply into the wasteland of your life or the lives of those around you and ask God to transform the situations into lush landscapes. Sow your prayers in tears to Him. (see prayer below for guidance)
A Prayer: (focus your attention on the image of the Negev as you pray)
Lord,
I look into this Negev desert and all I see is wasteland. All I see is emptiness and loss. But I trust that you can see life. Would you bring transformation to this desert landscape of my heart and the world around me and bring new life?Would you bring the spring rains? Name specifically what you the world needs. Is it a word of encouragement? A specific provision? Financial provision? Breakthrough? A promise to cling to? Ask Him to provide what you need.“Help me, Lord, to trust you for the way you want to provide and when. Help me to keep petitioning you and to wait in the in-between space of sowing and reaping.
Amen
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