“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9 (ESV)
There is something about planting seeds that feels almost foolish.
You press something small and dry into dark soil.
You cover it up.
And then… nothing.
No applause.
No immediate growth.
No visible reward.
Just dirt.
Motherhood can feel the same way.
We wake up and do the good work again.
We fold the laundry.
We wipe the counters.
We read the Bible stories.
We correct attitudes.
We pray over little hearts.
And sometimes it feels like nothing is changing.
The toddler still throws tantrums.
The sibling rivalry still flares.
The house is messy again by noon.
And quietly, the temptation creeps in:
Is this doing anything? What is the point of discipleship when I see no results?
Welcome to Healing Home, where we explore topics of motherhood and homemaking through the scope of Christian faith. Today, we will be tackling this idea of planting preverbial seeds in motherhood, even though we don’t see immediate growth. On a personal note, I really needed this message and had a really hard time even writing the accompanying blog post because I am just way too ‘in the trenches right now’. I had to use ChatGPT a couple of times to organize my thought process. While we chit-chat about this topic, I will be planting some seeds, homeschooling the kids, cleaning the house, and making our favorite sourdough calzone for dinner. All my links for today are in the description and in the accompanying blog post. Welcome to Healing Home, I hope you are encouraged and inspired by your time here.
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The Hidden Season
When you plant a seed, the first growth doesn’t happen where anyone can see it.
It happens underground.
Roots stretch down before shoots rise up.
This year, as I plan my 2026 garden, I’m focusing on starting some broccoli and a few peppers to begin with. You may wonder after last week’s video about moving, why I’m even planning or planting. Well, I told Dan back when we first started talking about moving that even if we did move, I was still going to plant the gardens. Even if someone else reaps the benefits of my labor. I need to do something purposeful. I need to grow something and put my hands in the dirt. I’m that type of person!
The veggies I’m starting are not glamorous. They are just my normal selections from Botanical Interest. These are actually last year’s seeds that we didn’t end up needing. I also have some really fun Buzzy Soda Can grow kits that I was given, and we’re going to see if we can get those to grow as well. They are a really fun kid project!
Seed starting is slow. It takes patience. And if you’ve ever grown it, you know you don’t plant it today and harvest it next week.
You press those tiny seeds into the soil and trust that something is happening long before you see those thick green heads forming.
Motherhood is like that.
So much of what we are doing is root work.
Every time you:
- Choose patience instead of snapping
- Apologize when you were wrong
- Read one more chapter of Scripture aloud
- Sit at the table for homeschool even when no one feels like it
- correct character instead of just behavior
You are strengthening roots.
Roots of faith.
Roots of identity.
Roots of security.
We live in a world obsessed with visible fruit — achievements, milestones, results.
But God often works underground first.
And if the roots grow deep enough, the fruit will come in due season.
“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9 (ESV)
The Temptation to Grow Weary
“Let us not grow weary of doing good…”
Why would Paul write that?
Because he knew we would want to.
There is something uniquely exhausting about faithful repetition.
Homeschooling when attention spans are short.
Practicing handwriting again.
Sounding out the same words.
Working through attitudes.
Answering endless questions.
Some days it feels like you’re covering the same ground over and over again.
You teach kindness… and then break up another argument.
You teach obedience… and then repeat the same instruction five times.
You teach truth… and then hear worldly ideas creeping in.
It can feel like sowing seeds into resistant soil.
Weariness doesn’t usually come from one big dramatic failure.
It comes from the daily drip of “Is this worth it?”
But here’s what we forget:
Repetition is how roots grow.
The steady, ordinary faithfulness of reading Scripture at the breakfast table.
The math lesson.
The memory verses.
The conversations in the car.
None of it feels dramatic. But it is forming souls.
You Don’t Control the Growth
Here is the part that both humbles and comforts me:
I am not responsible for making the seed grow.
I can plant broccoli seeds carefully.
I can water them.
I can give them sunlight.
But I cannot command them to sprout.
In the same way, I cannot force spiritual growth in my children.
I cannot force them to believe.
I cannot force them to love the Lord.
I cannot force them to feel secure in who they are.
But I can consistently remind them of what is true.
That they were created on purpose.
That they are known by God.
That they belong to Him.
One of the sweetest themes we’ve been talking about in our home lately is this idea that our children’s identity isn’t something they have to earn.
They don’t belong because they perform well.
They don’t belong because they get everything right.
They don’t belong because they make me look good.
They belong because God says they do.
“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9 (ESV)
And when that truth sinks deep — when it becomes a root instead of just a phrase — it changes everything. I cannot control when that truth blooms in their hearts. But I can keep planting it. Again and again.
We’ve actually been talking about this because of a new book release that I was given. I’m going to be honest, as a content creator, I get a lot of free stuff, and I do not promote all of it. Actually, it’s shocking how little I promote based on what I’m getting. All that to say, I got a book recently that talks about this idea of being children of God, and it’s good enough to share.
You Always Belong by Jinger Duggar Vuolo and Jeremy Vuolo gently reminds children that their worth isn’t based on performance but on being a beloved child of God. It’s tender, biblically grounded, and such a sweet conversation starter for little hearts.
You can grab it at your local bookstore or visit my complete review here.
What Seeds Are You Planting?
So much of homemaking is an invisible investment.
This sourdough calzone is one that I typically make with all-purpose einkorn, but I’m completely out, so I’m adjusting the recipe to use exclusively whole wheat. It definitely changed the results, but it was still very good. I also typically use spinach as the veggie in here and today I used cabbage which was stupendous and my kids didn’t even notice!
You mix the dough hours before anyone eats.
You knead it.
You let it rise.
You shape it carefully.
No one claps when you feed your family.
It’s just what you do.
And motherhood is like that too.
You are planting seeds every single day:
- The way you speak when you’re stressed.
- The way you respond when you fail.
- The way you handle conflict.
- The way you prioritize God’s Word.
- The way you create safety in your home.
Some seeds are planted in tears.
Some are in exhaustion.
Some in joy.
But they are planted nonetheless. The question isn’t whether you’re planting seeds. The question is — what kind?
Don’t Grow Weary
Let this be the rally cry for this season:
Don’t grow weary.
Not when the lessons feel repetitive.
Not when the house feels chaotic.
Not when the progress feels invisible.
Not when you’re tired of correcting the same heart issues.
Because weariness whispers, “It’s not working.”
But faith replies, “God is working underground.”
You may not see the harvest today.
You may not see it this year.
But in due season — in God’s perfect timing — there will be fruit.
And even if you never see the full harvest this side of heaven, obedience is never wasted.
So plant the seeds.
Plant them in faith.
Plant them in hope.
Plant them in love.
And trust the Lord of the harvest to do what only He can do.
Mama, what you are doing matters more than you know.
Keep sowing. 🌿
