
“I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, on the basis of God’s mercy, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your reasonable act of worship. Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of the mind, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect” (Rom. 12:1-2).
Breaking Up the Fallow Ground
Living a radical life in Christ is not a journey of comfort or ease. It is a call to surrender and transformation. This process often exposes the depths of our hearts in ways we could never imagine. When God truly begins to move in your life, He does more than touch the surface. He digs deep. He uproots old habits, thoughts, and ways of living that hinder His purpose for us. It’s as if He applies the very words of Jeremiah 1:10. He tears down what no longer serves His Kingdom. He rebuilds what has eternal significance.
In my walk with Christ, I recall a season in which life was very challenging. During that time, my hope was to resolve the marital challenges I faced. I came to God seeking restoration in one specific area, but He had far greater plans for me. My secure little world—built on foundations I thought were stable—was suddenly being uprooted and torn apart. It was unsettling, yet it was necessary. Isn’t that how God works? He doesn’t just solve the problems we present to Him. He addresses the root causes and goes deeper than we expect. He knows that true healing requires complete restoration.
During this time, God began to show me the fallow ground in my heart. These were uncultivated, barren spaces that needed to be broken apart. The expression, “Break up your fallow ground,” took on a profound meaning for me. It wasn’t just about clearing away surface-level issues. It was about breaking off wicked habits. It involved clearing my heart of spiritual weeds that had grown unnoticed. These weeds were choking the good seeds of righteousness that God wanted to plant. He taught me that my heart, in its brokenness, needed to be ready. This preparation was for the Word to take root and bear fruit.
Reflecting on Hosea 10:12, I found hope in the promise. God would “shower righteousness” upon me. This would happen as I allowed Him to break up that fallow ground. The process wasn’t easy. It required humility, repentance, and trust that He was doing a good work in me. The old thought patterns—the ways I had relied on my own strength and understanding—had to be uprooted. God needed room to plant His seeds of righteousness. I began to see that this wasn’t just about resolving my challenges. It was about transforming me into someone who could harvest a crop of love. This transformation was meant to help me live a life that glorifies Him in ways I had never envisioned.
Through this journey, I’ve learned that living a radical life in Christ means embracing His plans. This is true even when they diverge from our own. It means trusting Him when our worlds are shaken. We know that His purpose is not to harm us. Instead, He aims to restore us. God’s radical love breaks us so that He can build us anew—a construction project of His grace and mercy. In the breaking, He plants seeds. These seeds grow into a harvest for His Kingdom. It is a harvest of love, righteousness, and transformation.
As I continue on this path, I hold onto the truth that God’s ways are higher than mine. I am reminded daily that living for Him requires faith to let go of what is comfortable. It also takes courage to embrace His pruning. The fallow ground of my heart needs constant tending. In His hands, it becomes fertile soil. It is ready to bear fruit for His glory. Living radically for Christ means not just surviving the storms of life. It also means thriving in His life-changing grace. This continues until the day He completes the work He has begun in me.
May your journey be blessed with wisdom and grace.
Blessings,
Minister A. Francine Green
All Scripture references are taken from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVUE) unless otherwise noted.