There’s a field near my house that grows different kinds of crops at different times of year. Soybeans in the spring, corn in the summer and early fall, and then toward the end of every winter the butterweed sprouts up, blanketing the land in beautiful, bright yellow flowers.
But there’s a portion of the year—normally between December and February—where nothing grows.
It was in the middle of winter last year that I was taking a walk down the small two-lane road next to the field. I was going through a winter season of my own—a winter season of the soul. Both internally and externally, my life felt dry, flat, lifeless. So I was praying as I was walking—or, more accurately, I was going, what the heck, Lord? I’m trying to be obedient to Your voice, so why does it feel like nothing is happening? Am I doing the wrong thing?
Then I happened to look over at the field in all its barren, boring glory. Nothing was growing. There didn’t seem to be even a hint of something growing.
Can I just be honest? On that day, in that moment, I related to that ugly brown patch of land so deeply. Because it was in its fallow season. And in many ways, so was I.
A Sabbath of the Land
A fallow season is when farmers give their land a time of intentional rest and inactivity. But not just rest and inactivity for the sake of rest and inactivity.
In the book of Leviticus, Moses is speaking to God on Mt. Sinai, receiving the laws that we know as the 10 Commandments, as well as other laws intended for the Israelites’ flourishing once they entered the Promised Land.
In Leviticus 25, Moses is given this explicit instruction from God:
“‘When you have entered the land I am giving you, the land itself must observe a Sabbath rest before the Lord every seventh year. For six years you may plant your fields and prune your vineyards and harvest your crops, but during the seventh year the land must have a Sabbath year of complete rest. It is the Lord’s Sabbath. Do not plant your fields or prune your vineyards during that year. And don’t store away the crops that grow on their own or gather the grapes from your unpruned vines. The land must have a year of complete rest.’” – Leviticus 25:1-5 NLT
Just like the Israelites were to weekly practice the Sabbath themselves, they were instructed to make sure their land practiced a Sabbath as well—a year of complete inactivity. They weren’t to plant or to harvest. The Sabbath year would serve as a reminder that everything, including the fruit of the land, belongs to God. It would be a call for God’s people to put their total trust in Him to provide for their every need, physical included.
The Fallow Season
So the fallow season was not only an imperative for God’s people at their specific point in history—the fallow season has agricultural benefits, too.
That day when I got home from my walk, I started researching why farmers allow their land a fallow season. It just seemed so counterproductive to me—to waste all that time not growing things. But what I learned, and the way it seemed to parallel my own situation, blew me away.
Here are the three main purposes for a fallow season:
1. To Recover
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in whom I find protection. He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety.” – Psalm 18:2 NLT
A fallow season gives the soil a chance to recover and restore its organic matter, and, as a result, its fertility.
2. To Replenish
"For I will satisfy the weary soul, and every languishing soul I will replenish.” – Jeremiah 31:25 ESV
A fallow season is a time when the soil is able to replenish its nutrients.
3. To Prepare
“For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.” – Isaiah 43:19 NLT
A fallow season is intended to prepare the soil and land for the future crops that will be planted there, and to guarantee their quality.
The Anchor for Our Souls
It’s still hard for me to wrap my mind around how so much nothing actually prepares the way for future bounty.
Maybe it’s hard for you, too. Maybe you’re in a season that feels empty, dead, or hopeless. Maybe you’ve lived through months and months of “winter,” and you’re waiting for the inevitable push of spring, and you’re waiting some more, and it keeps just not coming. You’re wondering if it’s even possible for God to make something of so much nothing.
But sometimes nothing is exactly what God asks of us, so that He has room to do the slow, quiet work in us. Sometimes He asks for our inactivity. He asks us to reaffirm our trust in Him, not for His benefit, but for our own. Good things are coming and will continue to come—for those in Christ, that hope is guaranteed. Hebrews 6 reassures us: “Therefore, we who have fled to Him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the hope that lies before us. This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls” (6:18-19 NLT).
Flee to Him for refuge, holding fast to His strong and trustworthy anchor. Know that your fallow season isn’t forever. But in the meantime, it’s okay to be still. It’s okay to not be doing all the time. There can’t be a harvest where there isn’t first rest.
