![]() he other afternoon I was driving back from a doctor’s appointment in Ankeny. While on Hwy 163 near Prairie City, I looked over and noticed that large swaths of the trademark prairie at the Neal Smith National Wildlife Refuge were charcoal black. Other parts of the prairie–a familiar light brown this time of year–were left untouched. The contrast between the two areas was stark. When I got home, I looked up what had occurred, and–just as I’d suspected–learned that a prescribed burn of over 1,015 acres of the prairie at the wildlife refuge had taken place just the day before. In other words, the charcoal black swaths had been set on fire on purpose, and the spread of the fire had been controlled by trained firefighters. Long before humans got into the mix, prairies were managed by nature. Lightning strikes would set fires, wind would spread those fires and spread native seeds, and large animals like bison–who graze on the very prairie they simultaneously trample–were also in the mix. Now, however, our prairies and our bison are limited. And we humans have built homes and created communities very near some of the great native prairies that still exist. Management now occurs by humans by way of prescribed burns. In my reading, I learned that a healthy prairie is one of the most complex ecosystems on earth. And yet, even with all of its complexities, a healthy prairie is also one of the most balanced of all the systems on earth as well. Grasses work with soil and water and flowers to crowd out weeds and offer nutrients to one another that perpetuate the growth and flourishment of the healthy, balanced, complex system. Unfortunately, with human encroachment on natural areas, and the introduction of non-native, invasive species into the native prairie ecosystem, it’s no longer possible to simply let nature take its course. If we did, the non-native, invasive species–which grow at a much faster rate–would choke out all of the native prairie, resulting in an unbalanced, unhealthy ecosystem which cannot sustain life and flourishing. So we burn the whole prairie. AND…in the burning, the invasive weeds are eliminated, and a way is cleared for native seeds that have been dormant for a long time to germinate and grow. One source stated that after a prairie burn, only the native perennials that have been the basis for a healthy prairie survive the prairie burn, and the lushness and variety of new growth is often two to threefold from the previous year. We human beings are not unlike the native prairies that once covered this land. We–too–get to places in our lives when our natural balance is upended. We–too–find that the landscape of our minds and our hearts are invaded by that which is not native to our human ecosystems. We–too–find ourselves in need of something that will unblock the pathway to new life and new growth in our hearts, minds, and spirits. And so, we are invited to undergo a controlled burn of our own. This season of Lent has been meant to give us a pathway to such a burning away. As we have focused on fasting, giving, and prayer, we have been invited into deeper examination of ourselves and the world around us, to see what has been choking out our spiritual connections to God, to our truest selves, and to one another. And we have been invited to allow those invasive weeds to be burned away, creating a path for a spiritual growth that is lush and thriving in ways that it was not before this season began. But we don’t need a designated season in the Church to undergo such a renewal. We just need to recognize our need for a match. Therein lies the rub. Because far too often we don’t realize that invasive weeds like fear, apathy, stress, and disengagement are choking us out. We don’t realize that the ecosystem we’re trying to exist in is no longer supporting life and flourishing, because it is teeming with messages that we aren’t enough, or that we don’t own enough or possess enough. We don’t realize how the Divine spark in our hearts is no longer even smoldering, and how our own spiritual growth has grown dormant as that which is non-native within us has continued to overrun all that makes us human, and all that makes us whole. So, while the season of Lent is almost over, I pray that our quest for healing, wholeness, and renewal are not. I pray that we would continue the work of burning away all that is no longer serving us, and all that has been allowed to live rent free in our hearts, minds, and spirits for far too long, while choking us out at every turn. I pray that the fire of the Divine would be lit once again in our weary souls, so that we would again know balance. That we would again know variety and flourishing. That we would again know life and life to the full. For that is what is and always has been native in our spiritual ecosystems. And that is what is and always has been there–fighting its way through the weeds. Straining and fighting for survival against all that threatens to choke it out. It’s still there…just waiting for a path out of dormancy to be cleared. Just waiting for a spark to get a fire going. Burning away what no longer serves with you, Pr. Melissa Comments are closed.
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Rev. Melissa Sternhagen
Rev. Melissa Sternhagen was called as the pastor of St. Paul Congregational UCC in June of 2020. Prior to her call to St. Paul, Pr. Melissa worked as a hospice chaplain in the Ames, IA area, following pastorates at rural churches in Central Iowa and Southern Illinois. Pr. Melissa is a second-career pastor with a background in agribusiness and production & supply operations. She received her M.Div. from Eden Theological Seminary in St. Louis, MO, and holds a MA Ed. in Adult Education and Training, and a BA in Organizational Communications. Archives
April 2025
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