A little while ago, we lost a little something here.
It has come so suddenly, so unexpectedly. And then, had vanished just as rapidly. It had just appeared and then . . . disappeared.
It was just a little something and yet, the loss loomed terribly large.
I had not asked for its coming, nor even dared to hope that it may one day arrive, which the coming without the asking almost caused the large loss to sting rather smartly. It was a sting I was not braced for, had not prepared for - I had not even asked, nor dared to hope and yet He gave - and then He took away.
In the sting as I mourned the little lost something I knew there must be a something other that He was giving and was asking me to grasp for. A loss of something for the gain of the other.
In truth, at first - I did not like the trade. I wanted the unasked for and unexpected little something back - I did not want to trade it for another other.
But, a Father's heart beats for His children and my rhythm was out of beat, for His heart was beating for the other.
And yet the truth still remained, I did not like the other, I had tangled and tussled with this other more times then I cared to remember. And the plain truth - I really did not like the other.
I liked my little something. Nay, I loved my little lost something.
And yet, I know there is this dying to the little somethings that we love, in exchange for a harvest we can not fathom.
John 12:24 ~ " . . . unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain."
This is a heavenly principle I often despised; begrudgingly slinging my cross on my back, muttering things about others that I will not repeat here to muddy your innocent eyes. But, the sanitized verse would sound something of this, "Why do I always have to be the strong one, carrying a cross?! Someone else could take a whirl with it you know, Big Man!" God is so gracious and merciful that He has not struck me with lightening about 18,000 times!
But, of late I have begun to relish the dying - the selfish, solitary seed falling into soil for the Masterful Gardner to create masterpiece with - it is a gift this dying to self for self is surely a surly sort.
And yet again, I asked for strength to die to the little something I loved and He answered and He gave and I reaped a harvest unfathomable . . .
A harvest of a life and of love and a heart beat more closely in step with my Father's.
The lost little somethings in life will always reap the harvest bountiful - if we lay them in the soil of His heart.
It has come so suddenly, so unexpectedly. And then, had vanished just as rapidly. It had just appeared and then . . . disappeared.
It was just a little something and yet, the loss loomed terribly large.
I had not asked for its coming, nor even dared to hope that it may one day arrive, which the coming without the asking almost caused the large loss to sting rather smartly. It was a sting I was not braced for, had not prepared for - I had not even asked, nor dared to hope and yet He gave - and then He took away.
In the sting as I mourned the little lost something I knew there must be a something other that He was giving and was asking me to grasp for. A loss of something for the gain of the other.
In truth, at first - I did not like the trade. I wanted the unasked for and unexpected little something back - I did not want to trade it for another other.
But, a Father's heart beats for His children and my rhythm was out of beat, for His heart was beating for the other.
And yet the truth still remained, I did not like the other, I had tangled and tussled with this other more times then I cared to remember. And the plain truth - I really did not like the other.
I liked my little something. Nay, I loved my little lost something.
And yet, I know there is this dying to the little somethings that we love, in exchange for a harvest we can not fathom.
John 12:24 ~ " . . . unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain."
This is a heavenly principle I often despised; begrudgingly slinging my cross on my back, muttering things about others that I will not repeat here to muddy your innocent eyes. But, the sanitized verse would sound something of this, "Why do I always have to be the strong one, carrying a cross?! Someone else could take a whirl with it you know, Big Man!" God is so gracious and merciful that He has not struck me with lightening about 18,000 times!
But, of late I have begun to relish the dying - the selfish, solitary seed falling into soil for the Masterful Gardner to create masterpiece with - it is a gift this dying to self for self is surely a surly sort.
And yet again, I asked for strength to die to the little something I loved and He answered and He gave and I reaped a harvest unfathomable . . .
A harvest of a life and of love and a heart beat more closely in step with my Father's.
The lost little somethings in life will always reap the harvest bountiful - if we lay them in the soil of His heart.
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