Let yesterday’s pain fall to the ground and die and ask the Lord of the Harvest, Jesus Christ, to grow it into something beautiful.
I used to love watching the harvest happening on upper Blue Creek in Montana where we ranched. Our wheat farming neighbors, whose land bordered ours, would have the custom cutters come and harvest their wheat. They would get eight or ten combines lined up in a field, kind of staggered so they weren’t running into each other, and just start knocking down the grain. They could make short work of very large fields.
It was really cool at night when they were all lit up surrounded by a back-lit halo of grain dust as they ate up a field of golden grain and shot it into the trucks coming alongside to carry the grain directly to market or to the grain bins for later sale.
When they were all done there would be a big party and everyone in the area was invited to the Blue Creek Harvest Party. All up and down the creek—the wheat was harvested, the straw was baled, the hay was put up. The cows were bred and the calves were fat. Weaning and shipping will soon start— but first we celebrate. Life is hard but life is good—if you make it so and recognize it.
Invading another neighbor’s yard, we would all wait in eager anticipation as we visited and watched the kids play games while the smells of the roasting pig in the giant homemade BBQ was turning on the spit and making us all voraciously hungry. Usually about the time the one tending the pig was just about three sheets to the wind— tending a pig roaster on a hot late summer evening is thirsty work—the pig would be ready for the carving table.
Oh man, that was good stuff. A fitting celebration for a good harvest. A good harvest is literally the difference between life and death, if there is no harvest there is famine. Walmart and Albertsons do not manufacture food, a farmer has to plow and sow, the rain has to fall and the sun has to shine and then the reaper has to reap and the trucker has to truck. All that assuming the grasshoppers, hail storms, weeds, worms or winds, did not get your crop first.
But right off the bat, the first thing that has to happen and what we don’t really think about is, a seed has to die. There is sacrifice. A seed, literally the grain that could feed us is put into the ground, buried and left to rot, that seed becomes something else, it turns into a plant that yields many more seeds—fruit that produces many times more than the single grain or seed that was sacrificed.
“The hour has come that the Son of Man should be glorified. 24 Most assuredly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain. 25 He who loves his life will lose it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. John 12
Sometimes for new life to start, for a new start or a bigger dream to come to reality, we have to let go of something else. Jesus had to let go of his glory in heaven, to become a man, trading his incorruptible eternal nature for the corruptible fragile flesh of a man. And then he had to lay down the life he had as that man, risking it all with no guarantees that his mission would succeed, that he would be able to resist the temptations of the flesh and the enemy, and wind up in the same boat we were in, sinful and spiritually dead.
And in the end, when he did succeed in resisting the seductions of this world, he had to resist the temptation to flee the cross—the agony and heartache to come.
But he was willing to be that seed that would perish in the lonesomeness and shame of bearing the mockery, slanders and death that would befall him. But he would spring forth with new life, a life so much grander and imperishable, a life that was so powerful that it could be shared with us, those who recognize that the branch of David is now bearing fruit—and we are it.
To be that fruit, and to bear fruit in our own lives, we too have to be willing to lay down our lives. To give something up, to give up the crown of our own little kingdoms of me, to trust the King of Glory with our lives, with our hearts, with our past, present and future.
Can you do that? Give up your past? The things that taunt you. threaten you from back there, give you nightmares and wrinkles? The things that give you excuses to behave in ways today that you know are wrong? The things that make you afraid to move into your future? “I might get hurt again. I am not worthy, I am not strong enough, I am too angry and confused, frustrated and bitter, and it’s not my fault!”
No, maybe not, but it’s not your burden to bear either, not if you are listening to the one calling you, the one who knows what it’s like to be betrayed and hurt, forgotten and scorned—who even knows the pain of death. He bore that pain so that he could take yours, give him your yesterdays and trust him for your tomorrows—starting with your today. If we let go of yesterday’s pain, we can let go of the excuses and be freed from those things we try to excuse.
Forgiveness, give it, receive it, live it. Put those seeds of hurt into the ground to die and let the rain and sun deal with them and see what the Lord of the harvest grows up in their place.
35 But someone will say, “How are the dead raised up? And with what body do they come?” 36 Foolish one, what you sow is not made alive unless it dies. 37 And what you sow, you do not sow that body that shall be, but mere grain—perhaps wheat or some other grain. 38 But God gives it a body as He pleases, and to each seed its own body. 1 Cor 15
Let yesterdays pain fall to the ground and die and ask the Lord of the Harvest, Jesus Christ, to grow it into something beautiful.
—As you are beautiful.