Scarred fields and Scarred people
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Yesterday I noticed two dark green cuts running through the field rolling by on my right. Someone must have lost a cow or just decided to cross through on their four wheeler to get to the next field over, laying down crop as they drove. The two lines gave evidence, long after whatever had cut the path was gone. The scar told a story. Since I didn’t know the story, to me it was just an ugly scar marring an otherwise perfectly ripe field.
I don’t see lines played down in a crop field often. I’m in Iowa. I rarely pass large fields of something other than corn or soy beans; one too tall and the other, too bushy to show a story of who has been cutting through the field. You notice these things when you live in farm country. The fields and farms become as familiar as passing the coffee shop and library, as interesting as street traffic because they are ever changing. I never tire of country drives.
[Tweet “Country drives are cathartic for the soul, because beauty is in the life before you, not the tiny picture in the rear view mirror.”]
We once drove an hour out of the way to show the kids a field of golden wheat as it as being harvested. I thought they might find it as beautiful as I did, but on this day passing that gem colored field, it wasn’t the beauty that made me take notice. It took me a few minutes to even figure out that it was alfalfa, standing in stubby green glory. The slice through the rows, the cut, scarring the crop, bothered me. It nagged my mind as I drove in the quiet car; all the children asleep, worn out from the day at the lake.
We all carry scars.
We often view scars as making us less than perfect. Maybe you have scars from a tragic accident, from wounds inflicted on your own flesh, or the scars no one can see, but are there, deep in your heart. The truth is some scars fade very little. My scars are 22 years old and are no less noticeable that they were twenty years ago. Self inflicted scars, ugly reminders of cuts I made to distract me from the pain in my heart. The pain I thought would always be there is a whisper, but the scars, I have to cary those forever. My kids have asked about them. I brushed them off and ignored them for a long time. I built up a great deal of fear about the conversation that I would one day be forced to have with them, about scars and wounded hearts.
The only thing greater than my shame, is my story.
I know what God can do with a broken heart, a used up girl, and a scarred up soul. I shared with my son and daughter, about my brokenness, it was not as terrible as I thought. God gives grace and wisdom. The truth did not leap out and kill me right there. After sharing with him about why I had these scars, I felt known, and it felt good. I encourage you to speak and be known as well. Those people you think will never understand your pain might be hiding scars on their hearts that match. No one gets out of this life unwounded by love, death, and circumstances, but we have a greater purpose. We can tell others, you can live again. Vibrantly.
Don’t let your wounds keep you from being know. Speak. Love.
Seek Gods truth about who you are.
You are more valuable than you will ever know.
God spoke to my heart as I passed the next field.
It was different from the rest because it was naked. Nothing but light green stubble with patches of dirt, the crop was already harvested. The field was now dotted with 1,200 pound bales of hay. Bales that would keep milk, butter and beef in production through the winter. Corn and beans might be the main crop around here, but every farmer has a hay field. Every bale will feed and nourish the herd when the farmer needs it. I could not tell which bales held marred, scarred, broken plants or even those that were from poor soil or rich. Every part of the field was harvested because every part was useful, every broken blade would serve it’s purpose.
Every part of the field was reaped because every part was useful. [Tweet “Every broken blade would serve its purpose.”]
What the Lord has redeemed is His own. You are His own and you have a unique and powerful story of faith and redemption to share with the world. Working with the Lord of the Harvest makes your life a beautiful testimony to His grace and love, overcoming every obstacle until we are made perfect in Him.
I hope that you can see past the rear view mirror and into the harvest before you.
