The Dallas Morning News recently endorsed former Arkansas governor, Mike Huckabee, as their choice for the Texas Republican presidential primary, to be held March 4. The editorial board gave many reasons for their endorsement, not the least of which was that Mike Huckabee "has a pastor’s heart."

“A pastor’s heart.” Once a Baptist minister (and maybe he still is), I guess that would be expected. But I wonder what they meant. On the one hand, I think I know. They meant to suggest Mr. Huckabee has a heart for people or for the gospel; that he has a compassionate heart, a heart full of love. All admirable traits to be sure.

But, on the other hand, is a pastor’s heart really any different than a plumber’s heart? Or that of teacher or doctor or lawyer or ditch digger? Jesus once told a parable about the heart. It seems a farmer when out to sow his seeds of wheat in his field. He scattered the seed to the right and to the left, the ‘modern’ way of seed-sowing in the first century. Some of the seed fell on hard soil, some on shallow soil, some on soil choked with thorns, and some—only 25%--fell on good soil. And while

Jesus was indicating that this is how the Word of God is sown—very indiscriminately—the truth of the matter is that all four kinds of soil are a part of our hearts. Yours and mine. Pastor’s and laity.

The hardness of my heart refuses to hear the Word at all. The shallowness of my heart gets excited about a piece of gospel grace, but no sooner does the Word land than it disappears. The thorniness of my heart receives the Word with gladness but then gets choked out by the cares of this world—the worries and anxieties and lack of faith that plague my life. And then once in a while, every now and then, the Word is sown in my heart, takes root, and grows so that much fruit is born. No thanks to me, of course, but to the Spirit who refuses to give up on my three-quarter self-absorbed, hard-hearted heart.

A dear friend of mine—actually my wife—who is a dear friend—actually my best friend (but I digress) wrote a poem during Lent four years ago. She’s an excellent poet, but a shy one. She writes but isn’t excited about showing her poetry to many. But ask her some time to read her poem about a deserted farm. Incredibly touching. (But, again, I digress.) Anyway, she wrote this poem which now appears in our Lenten devotional book. In case you didn’t pick up a copy, here it is:

Hard Soil

Lord, I love my sin too much.   

Like a temptress, it seduces me                                                                                                                                          

Into a wicked fellowship,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

And I am enticed into believing,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

For one deceitful moment,

That I am happy.

But it is a shallow joy

To which I return again and again,

For I am never satisfied.

The part of me that yearns for You

Is suffocating in the hard soil

Of my recalcitrant heart.

Cast the seeds of repentance

Into the cracks of my soul,

And I shall water them

With the tears of my regret.

Then, blooming in Your love,

I shall find solace rooted in peace.

Sounds like a pastor’s heart to me. Or anyone else’s heart, for that matter. Which is, by God’s amazing grace, transformed by the power of the Christ, the one who died for all our hearts on Good Friday and was raised to give us each a new heart on Easter morn. Praise God!

-Pastor Bill