The Harvest

I have never been one to dream of life on a farm, but now I understand. Land far as the eye can see, new life all around, seeds spreading, rain falling, plants growing high, blue skies, sunshine, just the whistle of the wind, peace, quietness, harvest. Beautiful, isn't it? After housebound weeks of cold the sun came out this weekend and called our names. We went for many walks in 70 degree weather with new eyes to see around. Things are greatly appreciated when absent for a bit. On Saturday night before falling asleep, I whispered to Jeremy, "I'm thinking about corn fields." Only here, only in our apartment, one of many that have sprung up in our little town surrounded by fields.

I love that we've chosen to live here & I know that it was all in the books for a reason. I love our little church just five minutes down the street. When we pulled in this Sunday Jeremy commented, "Isn't it nice to actually be on time to church?" Yes, it is. We could have never pulled this off driving across town, although we would have driven further if this one hadn't felt like home.

I love the dirt road behind our apartments. 40 steps, turn the corner, trees hide the buildings, and you're suddenly in a simpler place. Tennis shoes are a must and I admit to Jeremy each time how geeky I feel in my ensemble, but step outside and no one cares. Why would they, it'd be ridiculous to dress any other way. To the right, a soybean field stretches as far as you can see, to the left trees and grass, no doubt filled with animals galore, and a little further along the way "our pond". We cross our fingers that the one little lady in her old Chevrolet doesn't speed by and stir up the dirt, but even that won't get us down. Sneak through the opening on the way back to walk around the townhouse community. Each building exactly alike, few changes in color, but filled with young, fresh families. New babies, small bicycles, their own place to call "home". We stop one more time by "our pond". Steps towards the door, the back of a row of duplexes face us. You can't help but see a baby in her high chair being spoon fed, a small toddler climbs atop the table, young children jump up and down on their mini trampoline savoring the last few minutes of light. Life is beautiful.

Everything is fresh to a pair of new eyes. The harvest, a reminder that God provides. Reading in Mark, parables I've heard many times stay close throughout the day. He taught them in parables so that, "they may look and look, yet not perceive; they may listen and listen, yet not understand." I've looked and listened, but never taken the time to search before shutting my eyes to the light. A choice is made against carelessness to look, listen, search, and apply.

So it is with the Parable of the Sower, one falling particularly on new ears to a girl surrounded by fields during harvest time. "Consider the sower who went out to sow. As he sowed, this occurred: Some seed fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Other seed fell on rocky ground where it didn't have much soil, and it sprang up right away, since it didn't have deep soil. When the sun came up, it was scorched, and since it didn't have a root, it withered. Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns came up and choked it, and it didn't produce a crop. Still others fell on good ground and produced a crop that increased 30, 60, and 100 times what was sown."

He explained to his disciples, the seeds are the word. Some hear and receive it with joy, but having no roots it is short lived and disappears when tribulations come along (rocky ground). Others hear the word, but reject it due to worries, seduction of wealth, and other earthly desires (thorns). The harvest comes from those who listen, accept, and bear fruit producing a crop 30, 60, and 100 times what was sown.

Hearing, listening, applying, time to bear fruit. How does this work in my own life? How can I share? Where can I speak up? Next paragraph, a lamp is not brought in to be put under a bed. "Pay attention to what you hear. By the measure you use, it will be measured and added to you. For the one who has, it will be given, and from the one who does not have, even what he has will be taken away." These are my contemplations; tailored to my location and just in time for the Thanksgiving season.

For now from the Land of Corn,

Leanne