Wrestling with the Soil of My Soul

A reflection on Mark 4:1-20

I have read the parable of the sower in Mark Chapter 4 many times. It’s one of those teachings of Jesus that on the surface seems simple: four types of soil, one kind of seed. But lately, it’s been occupying my thoughts deeper than before.

I think it’s because I’ve wrestled personally with how this parable coincides with understanding my own salvation.

I’ve been taught that salvation is by grace through faith, not of works, a gift from God (Ephesians 2:8–9). I believe it. I’ve confessed Jesus as Lord, I’ve seen God at work in my life, and I long to live faithfully. But I still have those moments when I ask: Why do I still feel so easily choked? Why does doubt still creep in? Why do I feel like I should be more fruitful by now?

That’s what brought me back to this parable.

Jesus describes four kinds of soil:

• The Path – where the Word never sinks in.
• The Rocky Ground – where there’s a quick emotional response, but no root.
• The Thorny Soil – where growth happens, but the cares of life and desires for other things choke it out.
• The Good Soil – where the Word grows and multiplies.

As I read this again, I realized something: I’ve been all four soils at different points in my life.

I’ve ignored God’s Word before. I have had periods in my life when I have been distracted and self-reliant.

I’ve had emotional highs in worship and study, only to dry out when things got hard.

I’ve been choked, more times than I care to remember, by anxiety, busyness, and the pressure to succeed.

But I’ve also had seasons where God’s Word took root, where peace and purpose overflowed, and I knew I was in His hands.

So here’s what I’m learning: the question isn’t just which soil are you? but how is God tending the soil of your heart today?

Understanding my salvation hasn’t been about chasing some feeling of assurance—it’s been about looking at Jesus, trusting His finished work, and being honest about the condition of my heart. Even the “good soil” in the parable isn’t perfect—it’s just soft enough to receive the seed, deep enough to hold it, and clear enough to let it grow. And that’s not something I can manufacture on my own.

If you’re reading this and you’ve ever wondered about your own standing with God, you’re not alone. Sometimes the evidence of salvation isn’t a constant feeling—it’s the fact that you keep coming back to the Word, that you still want Jesus, that you keep asking for understanding, even when you feel unworthy or uncertain.

Jesus ends the parable by saying, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” That’s a call to pay attention—but also an invitation. If we’re still listening, still seeking, then maybe the soil isn’t as hard or thorny as we think.

Lord, help me be the kind of soil that receives Your Word, again and again. Even if it’s slow, let it grow.  Let me be forever rooted in Your word.

Jim