Autumn is the wonderful season of the year when the world vibrates with the Creator’s colorful artistry. I love it. I love the challenges presented by the fall season as children head back to school and ministries start new programs. The air is electric with anticipation and hope.
The autumn also is the time for harvest. Here in the Pacific Northwest we have huge festivals and fairs where farmers can display and celebrate the fruits of their labor. The harvest is their reward.
My grandma taught me a lot about harvest. I spent my entire childhood on my grandparents’ farm in Wheatridge, Colo., where we raised corn, beans, tomatoes, strawberries, raspberries, and inevitably, zucchini. I loved the harvest because it seemed as if there were unending amounts of luscious crops. As a small child, it never occurred to me how much work was involved in producing these fruits and vegetables. I thought it came easy. Over the years, as I grew up and expanded my understanding of life, I began to learn the lessons Grandma wanted to teach me about all of the work it took to have a bountiful harvest.
Grandma taught me that seeds had to be carefully selected and purchased. Then the dark rich soil had to be tilled and prepared for planting. We then had to plant the seeds at the right depth, equally spaced —and in STRAIGHT rows! Then there was irrigating, hoeing, covering the plants during hail storms and the inevitable and boring weeding. All of that before we could enjoy one bite of juicy corn on the cob.
When my grandma died and met the Lord of the Harvest face to face, I believe she experienced the unspeakable joy of her life’s harvest. This time it was not corn or beans, tomatoes or strawberries, but the harvest of the seeds of faith she planted throughout her life.
Grandma had endured great hardships in her 92 years, yet through her life she never stopped trusting her Lord. She always taught me that the God of all creation was in control, that nothing surprised him and that he loved us during times of pain as well as joy. By the time Grandma died she had cared for and buried all of her sisters and brothers, her husband and one son. She had endured life’s normal and extraordinary trials. When I would go through dark valleys in my life, she would always remind me of God’s undying faithfulness. She planted seeds of faith every day of her life.
My grandmother was not a preacher or an evangelist. She was a little farm-woman from Wheatridge. The seeds of faith she planted are producing fruit in the lives of her living descendants, now spanning four generations.
The lesson is one for all of us. We can take simple seeds of faith and plant them deep into the soil of his sovereignty and love. We water them in his grace, weed out the sin, and let the heat of trials beat down. Someday we will rejoice in the succulent goodness of his harvest produced in our lives and in the lives of those we touch.
by Leona Bergstrom, Director, Re-Ignite
Taken from Third Calling: What are you doing the rest of your life? p. 145
Featured image by Canstock
originally published 10/2017