The Deepest Furrow

It was more than twenty years ago now that I was serving as associate pastor at a
church in Dunn, NC. I was fulfilled in my role there, but at the same time, I longed for an
opportunity to do more than I could do in that role.
I saw Chris, the leader of our denomination, at a meeting and conveyed my sentiments to him.
“If something comes up that you think may a good fit for me, please let me know; I’d love an
opportunity to take on more.”
He said he’d keep that in mind and called me one evening a few weeks later. He told
me there was a church in the town a half hour from ours that needed a lead pastor, and he
thought I could be effective there. He told me the likely salary, which was a step up from my
current salary at that time.
I told him I’d like a night to pray about it and that I’d give him an answer the next
morning. He seemed surprised at my response. Maybe he thought I’d jump at the opportunity especially since I’d recently conveyed my desire for a change and it seemed like a natural next step for a pastor on their ministry journey. But he agreed to give me the night to seek God about it.
I hung up the phone and immediately got on my knees beside my bed. I said, ”Lord, I’m
not sure what to do, so if I don’t hear otherwise from You, I’ll call Chris in the morning and tell him I’d like to pursue that lead pastor role.” I told my wife, Sharlene, what had transpired and went to bed.

I’m not a person that often has meaningful dreams. I usually can’t remember my dreams
longer than fifteen minutes after I wake up, and even then struggle to make sense of the
jumbled abstract pieces I can recall at all. But the night I prayed about how to respond to Chris, I had a dream that was vivid when I awoke and still is to this day. In my dream, I was standing in a freshly plowed field; the hand of God came down and made three furrows in the dirt. The first one was relatively shallow, the second one deeper and the third deeper still.
Then, God asked me, “Which one do you want?” I can’t describe how I knew, but I knew
the first furrow represented staying where I was. No change, no risk, just remaining in my
comfort zone. The second furrow represented the lead pastor role Chris invited me to consider. The third one represented planting a church, going into “Satan’s territory” and helping people find freedom in Jesus and live as citizens in God’s kingdom.
“I want the deepest one, Lord,” The answer seemed obvious to me.
And the Lord’s reply made me think it indeed should’ve been obvious. “That’s the one I
want for you, too.”
I woke the next morning excited to have heard from God in such a vivid dream, that He
had answered my prayer, and that He wanted me to do something that would have deep
impact. I could hardly wait for Sharlene to wake up so I could tell her what I had experienced. I knew she’d be excited too, and I was right – she was!

A few months later we moved to Wilmington, NC and led a team to launch a church. Our
new church, Grace Harbor Church, had an intense focus on outreach into the underprivileged, underserved community, many of whom struggled with drug and alcohol addiction. Out of GHC, we helped launch Christian Recovery Houses, a discipleship ministry for people recovering from addiction. CRH just celebrated its fifteen year anniversary. Many times over the past several years, CRH’s founder and president, CJ, has reminded me of my dream and choosing that deepest furrow.

I grew up on a farm and have spent a lot of hours on a tractor pulling a bottom plow
over hundreds of acres. When you use a bottom plow, it’s called breaking land because the bottom plow point breaks through a low layer of soil and turns it up (kind of like a surfer’s wave rolling water up and creating a tunnel) toward the top of the ground. It’s important to go slow enough for the plow point to reach deep below the top layer of soil. So you can’t go very fast when you’re breaking land; you have to go slow, sometimes annoyingly slow. If you go too fast, the plow will just ride along on top of the bottom layer of soil and defeat the purpose of using a bottom plow. When you plow deeply enough, it creates a deep furrow in which you drive the wheels on one side of your tractor each pass you make through the field. Shallow furrows mean you aren’t plowing effectively.
Once, when I was about thirteen years old, my dad was planting corn when he whistled
and motioned for me to come over to him. I ran across the field and got up on the tractor with him and rode along standing on the footrest. The tractor and planter were bouncing along as we rode because the ground was bumpy.
“You feel how bumpy this ground is?” my dad asked me.
“Yessir.”
“That’s what happens when you’re in too big of a hurry, and you go too fast for the plow
to go as deep as it’s supposed to.”
I had no defense. I was busted.
“Now some of these corn seed are planted deep enough and some of them ain’t.”
All I could do was ride along, embarrassed, not daring to look him in the eye.
“If you ever do this again, I’ll…” (I’ll spare you the unpleasantries.)
He never had to… I learned my lesson.

Deep furrows take time to make. They go at a different pace than we’d often prefer to
go.
When I chose the deep furrow in my dream, I was choosing to invest deeply in the lives
of people, helping them overcome difficult barriers and learn to walk in the profound freedom God offers us through Christ Jesus. Real ministry – serving people – takes time. It can be tempting to glide over the difficult issues people need help with, but that’s when I usually remember the deepest furrow commitment. That dream has come to mean more than launching Grace Harbor Church or helping lead Christian Recovery Houses. I now know God was inviting me to a lifelong lifestyle of working in the deepest furrow. I’m so thankful He led me to that choice. I deeply recommend it to anyone.