The Crop & The Harvest!
The ground is tilled. The air is mild - cool & crisp. There is sufficient rain & sunshine in the forecast. The seed is refined & ready for the soil. The crop is just peaking green shoots from black earth. The harvest will be plentiful. There will be produce for the cellar. I will not starve come winter. The abundance, rich & deep, shared. Those who wish may come take what they need. They may share in the bounty. Other fields are ready. They will grow a bumper crop. I will partake of their fare. Others will not till the soil or make preparations for winter. They will forage, scrape, & pilfer for their sustenance, but even these are welcome. They may take what they cannot give.
The sunrise promised has been given. I have an understanding as never before of what grace looks like. Every prayer answered. Every. Single. One. Answered. The reckless love of God is close to the heart. It swells - floods warm through cold veins once tight & restrictive to change burned from sacrifice.
There is openness like never before. My heart blanches with the swift blow of pain from rejection or misdeed done. Yet, it opens again & again to others, praying against pain while extending salve to those broken & bleeding. The source is His heartbeat in fragile frame. His love expands mere heart into a fathomless well of grace.
It springs forth in me. It pours out the cracked alabaster into the deep cracks of others. Envision a table lit by beautiful broken alabaster jars bleeding their brilliant light into each other; brokenness & healing transpiring at the same table.
I believed I could not be used. I stood on conviction & judgment. I did things in hope of acceptance. The fake was cloaked in a blanket filled with fear & sewn with the knowledge I would be found out.
So, as I sit before illumined parchment striving to find my voice in keystrokes I close my eyes & breathe deep. I have read several older blog posts & in some ways I envy the girl who wrote with abandon. Manacles have seemingly wrapped around my wrist tethering me to doubt. I find as I read others work my writing takes on a cadence of theirs. I struggle; smudged & crumpled paper about the floor. I need my voice to be heard. I need His voice to be heard.
I love how God speaks to me. He comes to me quietly & strikingly through nature. His hand of providence holds fast to my heart as I commune with other soul sisters – living deep. He talks with me through literature, quotes, stories, & other blogs. Yet, can He speak through me?
The answer is yes! Yes, beloved, He can!
As I sit and survey my life I am aggrieved. I have lived most of my 33 years allowing fear to direct the sails of my tiny vessel. I have not relied on Christ, but my own resources. It did not matter how bleak they might have been. I fought God tooth & nail until nothing quite shaped up to my standard of want.
6 Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; 7 and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. – Philippians 4: 6-7
This verse: it is my verse. It speaks to the language of my heart reminding me that worry & anxiety rob me of the peace God desires to give me. I put my best foot forward only to trip over my well intentions. I let go unnumbered times a day. I remember Christ & that I am “little Christ”. It is hard & I so easily forget that I am called to be like Him.
As for God, His way is perfect; The word of the Lord is proven; He is a shield to all who trust in Him. – Psalm 18:30
But He answered and said, “It is written, ‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.’”- Matthew 4:4
The precious Word of God. It holds great mystery revealed by the glorious grace of our Lord. How I desire to cling to its truth? I so often run to other stories before I open the sanctified pages of a Bible. I want to ache for the Word & soothe that ache with the devouring of it. There is a restless need that can so easily be numbed by inactivity. I forfeit time in the Word for time in the world. My aching heart hardens & I lose clarity & knowledge. May I rekindle the fire with the Eternal Flame.
My prayer life struggles too. I tend to lean on desperation of self instead of shoulder holding of others. I want to be a shoulder holder. It is good to speak to God about our troubles, but it is equally effective to carry the burdens of others to His throne room.
I am working it out; desperate to figure it out.
My pastor preached His heart today. God brought him to a place of brokenness, truth, & grace so that he might impart Divine words.
Bro. Jesse preached from one of my favorite passages of scripture:
40 So it was, when Jesus returned, that the multitude welcomed Him, for they were all waiting for Him. 41 And behold, there came a man named Jairus, and he was a ruler of the synagogue. And he fell down at Jesus’ feet and begged Him to come to his house, 42 for he had an only daughter about twelve years of age, and she was dying.
But as He went, the multitudes thronged Him. 43 Now a woman, having a flow of blood for twelve years, who had spent all her livelihood on physicians and could not be healed by any, 44 came from behind and touched the border of His garment. And immediately her flow of blood stopped.
45 And Jesus said, “Who touched Me?”
When all denied it, Peter and those with him[f] said, “Master, the multitudes throng and press You, and You say, ‘Who touched Me?’”[g]
46 But Jesus said, “Somebody touched Me, for I perceived power going out from Me.” 47 Now when the woman saw that she was not hidden, she came trembling; and falling down before Him, she declared to Him in the presence of all the people the reason she had touched Him and how she was healed immediately.
48 And He said to her, “Daughter, be of good cheer;[h] your faith has made you well. Go in peace.”
49 While He was still speaking, someone came from the ruler of the synagogue’s house, saying to him, “Your daughter is dead. Do not trouble the Teacher.”[i]
50 But when Jesus heard it, He answered him, saying, “Do not be afraid; only believe, and she will be made well.” 51 When He came into the house, He permitted no one to go in[j] except Peter, James, and John,[k] and the father and mother of the girl. 52 Now all wept and mourned for her; but He said, “Do not weep; she is not dead, but sleeping.” 53 And they ridiculed Him, knowing that she was dead.
54 But He put them all outside,[l] took her by the hand and called, saying, “Little girl, arise.” 55 Then her spirit returned, and she arose immediately. And He commanded that she be given something to eat. 56 And her parents were astonished, but He charged them to tell no one what had happened. – Luke 8: 40-56
I wish I could go in depth with all the beautiful parallels my pastor spoke of in this passage. Needless to say both Jairus & this broken woman were meant to converge this day, meet Jesus this day, meet with His power this day!
Then, my pastor, to bring his point home, brought out a bow & arrow. He had asked his grandson what he would think if he saw “Pa” out in the woods throwing an arrow with his hand at a deer in attempts to slay it. His grandson told Bro. Jesse that he was crazy, “Pa, you don’t have enough power!”
Then, Bro. Jesse asked, “How many arrows have you throne?”
It brought me back to this blog entry. It brought me back to 1,000 Gifts. It brought me back to my struggle to polish my alabaster, hide its cracks, & put on a ‘perfect’ façade.
We, who are sanctified, all have the power of the Lord Jesus Christ flowing through out veins. Just as an arrow pulled tight on a bow has mighty power behind it. Yet, the power is only released through the letting go of it…let go…let go…let go!
I survey my land. I am grateful for the harvest. But, if all were burned to ash & cinder I would still be grateful. I would still worship.
How I long to sit at His table? It is an ache in me to rest my head upon His shoulder as John did.
In this stirring, this settling, this bowing of head & bending of knee, I let go & find faith has powerful strength, rich love, & abiding mercy! GLORY TO GOD THE HARVEST HAS COME!