I heard about Good Soil before it came out from many writers I respect. But I kept putting off preordering it because of the title and subtitle. I won’t even walk in grass barefoot, so my level of interest in farming, or even gardening, is low, to say the least. And I (wrongly) assumed this book was aimed at people who enjoy working in soil. Fortunately, I was offered the opportunity to read Good Soil before it came out, so I gave it a chance. And I knew by the first few pages how lucky I was to be reading this incredible book. I’ve read many excellent spiritual memoirs, and this is among the very best.
In telling his story, Jeff Chu manages to be brutally honest while modeling healthy boundaries. He lets us into his griefs and makes us laugh. He shows us faith by how he lives and who he is without ever needing to preach or proselytize. He even opened me up, far beyond what I thought possible, to the wonder of farming, growing food, tending animals, knowing where and how and why things grow (or don’t), and caring about the rhythms and the details of life and death—for what they are, not just as metaphor or because of what they can teach.
As I reflected on this book, I asked myself what it is about. I think it is about learning to live and grow, even when it is uncomfortable or profoundly painful. And I think it is about discovering and developing the ability to nurture oneself, one’s community, and creation. And accepting that living, growing, and nurturing will include getting dirty.
Despite my lack of interest in farming or soil, I wanted to be on that farm, to be part of this story. Because this story is connected to so many other stories. And the way Jeff Chu tells stories leaves no doubt that every story matters. We will never know most of the stories of the people around us, even those closest to us. And we will probably never tell most of our own stories. But this story, Good Soil, is one I highly recommend because the specifics of Jeff Chu’s story will somehow resonate with your (probably very different) story in ways that will make you feel more alive, more capable of growth, and more able to live through the grief of death and the pain of life.
I also recommend reading Good Soil because I think we all need some fried rice. The first chapter is entitled “fried rice.” It was a nice beginning but I had no idea Jeff Chu was, intentionally, whetting my appetite. With each subsequent fried rice story, I longed to taste his what he was cooking. And, as the book went on, I began to wonder if, just maybe, I should try making it myself. Near the end, I thought, “I’m going to look back and find all of his advice about how to cook fried rice, and see if I can use that as the framework of a recipe.” And then—what a gift—he used the appendix to offer just that recipe framework I was craving.
Read this book—and try making some fried rice!
Thank you to Convergent for the privilege of reading an advance DRC of this book. I loved it so much, I purchased my own copy. All opinions are my own.