The Vacant Lot on Brewster Avenue

For eleven years, the corner of Brewster and Fifth in Detroit's Brightmoor neighborhood was a scar — broken concrete, syringes, knee-high weeds choking out anything worth looking at. Neighbors walked past with their eyes down. Nobody planted there. Why would you? The soil was poisoned with decades of neglect.

Then in 2016, a retired schoolteacher named Mabel Jackson did something nobody understood. She hauled in forty bags of compost, broke up the concrete with a borrowed sledgehammer, and started scattering seeds. Neighbors thought she was wasting her time. "Nothing grows there, Miss Mabel," they told her.

But Mabel kept watering. She kept showing up at six in the morning with her garden hose and her folding chair. And by August, sunflowers stood seven feet tall where crack vials once littered the ground. Tomatoes ripened where broken glass had been. Children who used to avoid that corner started stopping to pick cherry tomatoes on their walk to school.

Today, the Brightmoor Farmway stretches across multiple blocks, and it started with one woman who believed something could grow in ruined ground.

This is the promise of Isaiah 55. The Word of the Almighty does not return empty. It goes into the hard, neglected, seemingly hopeless soil of our lives, and it accomplishes exactly what God sends it to do. Where there were thorns, cypress trees rise. Where there were briers, myrtle blooms. What was barren becomes an everlasting sign of His faithfulness.