There is a quiet, uncomfortable truth about growth that we often want to skip over: nothing truly grows unless something first dies.
Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.
John 12:24
In nature, a seed does not become a plant by staying visible and whole. It must be planted. Covered. Buried. Hidden in the dark. The seed must break open. It must be surrendered so that something greater can emerge.
This is not just a farming lesson. It is also a spiritual one as well.
I first learned this lesson when I became a parent. If you are a parent, you know exactly what I mean. Everything changes. Your needs become secondary to the needs of your children. Sleep. Schedules. Priorities. Parts of who you thought you were must be surrendered for the sake of the life you are now entrusted to grow. Motherhood quickly taught me that real love required death to myself, not in a dramatic way, but in a thousand quiet daily choices to put someone else first.
The same is true in marriage. Whether as a wife or a mom, I have learned that you cannot love well while clinging tightly to your own comfort, preferences, pride, or control. The most meaningful love – the kind that reflects Christ – is always rooted in humility and self-giving love.
We tend to resist seasons of darkness, loss, uncertainty, or breaking. Or at least I do! From the outside, burial looks like the end. We sometimes label them as failure, punishment, or setbacks. But Scripture and nature tell a different story.
From God’s perspective, it is often the beginning.
Jesus Himself used this exact imagery:
“Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” John 12:24
When God is preparing something new, He often allows us to be placed where we can no longer rely on our old form, our old strength, or our old identity. Our seed coat must crack. Our outer shell must split. What once were selfish ambitions must give way so that new life can push through.
Paul writes:
“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.” Galatians 2:20
Dying to self is not about losing who you are. It is about surrendering your identity to Christ. It is letting go of pride. Control. Old expectations. Old ambitions. Old seasons that no longer serve the new work God wants to do.
Just like a seed, we cannot carry both our old form and our new calling at the same time. And sometimes that can feel heavy, dark and lonely. But growth does not start in the sunlight. It must grow in the soil. In the pressure. In the hidden place. In the dark. And eventually it has to be broken and something has to be released.
What can feel like a burial is often God planting. Jesus modeled this perfectly. He led by laying down His life. He loved by putting others first. He changed the world not through self-preservation, but through self-sacrifice.
The cross was not the end of Jesus’ story. The tomb was not the end either. Resurrection always follows burial in God’s economy. But resurrection only comes after surrender.
If you feel like you’re in a buried season of being unseen, pressed, broken, or waiting, it does not mean God is done. It often means He is working deeper than you can see. Roots are forming before fruit ever appears. Growth is happening underground long before anyone sees green above the soil.
Trust the process. Just like in the field, the farmer does not bury seed to destroy it. He buries it because he believes in the harvest. He surrenders it to the laws of nature, what he knows to be true, and waits patiently upon the harvest.
Some of you need to hear this: God is not finished with you. God has not walked away from you. Instead, He is growing something new in you. I promise you that sometimes the greatest growth occurs after the greatest surrender.
“Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy.
Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow,
will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them.”
Psalm 126:5–6
Lord, help me trust You in the dark places. Help me surrender what must be released so new life can grow. Give me faith to believe that what feels like burial is often preparation for resurrection. Grow in me what I cannot grow on my own.
Amen.
Where in your life do you need to get comfortable with being buried while you await new growth?
xo Carre
