I wish you could have been with me this morning, at the end of the driveway when that fog hung from Heaven’s invisible strings. It’s a September morning, and all the Earth here is golden, ready for harvest.
My favorite farmer will lay bare this ground. In the stripping away, my heart is always laid bare, too. I feel this cycle deep — perennial hope in the spring and a palpable grief each fall. What we grow will be stripped away.
This is life, too — a growing, and a cutting away, and a rebirth in the starting-over-again each spring. Nothing ever ends. It only just begins again.
Here at the edge of this field, I imagine what you and I would have talked about, both in our own growing seasons. I thought about you today, friend, when I stood at the edge of this field.
You and I, we’re both farmers. We plant seeds, trust God to water and grow those seeds. To grow us.
We don’t know how long, or how tall. We don’t know the fruit of our harvest in these lives — each life is part beauty, part barb.
Growth stings sometimes, yes?
On the cusp of another harvest, we see this: the way toward God comes in the growing. We are not yet what we will be. But we are moving toward it.
And just over the horizon, I see the sun, still shining its promise, making golden all that it touches.
“This life is not godliness, but growth in godliness. … We are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it, the process is not yet finished, but it is going on, this is not the end, but it is the road.”
— Martin Luther
Writing with the Five-Minute Friday community today, where Lisa-Jo encourages us to just… write. No backtracking, no overthinking. Just write, real and true. This week’s prompt: Growth.
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- » A Harvest of Words Out of My Alleged Mind - [...] my blog world friends have featured posts and pictures related to the season of harvest, here and here. In…
Love this I always enjoy a fellow farmer!
But I must say you have some brand spankin new barbed wire there…or you gussied it up just for this photo shoot….ours is more of the screaming Tetanus kind.
LOL! Not sure about the age of that barbed wire. I don’t think it’s new, but I could be wrong. 😉
“Screaming Tetanus kind.” This makes me laugh … and wince. I’ve run into that kind a time or twelve. 🙂 Thanks for stopping by today.
Oh thanks for the comment on my blog. You are a dear.
Funny story… Our family buisness is in northwest Iowa. Spencer to be exact.
Oh my, T! We are close to each other. I’m about 80 miles west of you. And, I grew up 30 minutes south of you, in Marathon.
Oh I don’t live there…my husband is in that area every month for work…
I lived in mn for a few years but I am back east now.
I am just very familiar with the area. I have been there and okiboji many times.
Beautiful pictures…oh and I love the quote…and thank the Lord…we are not yet what we will be…but moving toward it.
Thanks for stopping in today. Have a beautiful weekend!
I’m not a farmer, but I want to be one. You guys have all the great illustrations! 🙂
Can I put in an order for some soynuts now? Just the regular kind?
Thanks for connecting all of us to the earth…and to God
You’re right, David. Farmland is rich with metaphor. And yes, I’ll be bringing some soynuts down to Laity. 🙂
When reads this and sees the beans calling to be harvested….we just might have to leave here earlier than planned! 🙂 You know how he gets when it is time to work with Scott! Isn’t that the truth..sometimes we are stripped away during our growing period..very nice of course. How you take one word and do this….
We are excited for you guys to come. It looks so pretty this time of year. Do you think Dad will teach me how to drive the tractor this year? 😉
LOVE this post. Your words and pictures are beautiful!
Thank you, Eileen. God is so creative! He paints magnificent vistas!
We had that same fog today…but filling in the vs of our narrow canyons, mostly wildlands with little patches tamed to hold homes.
We have a native plant, the Matilijia Poppy, that will only germinate if the seed has been burned in wildfire.
I would so enjoy some orderly rows, and planned harvests, right now.
Thank you for that glimpse, Jennifer!
I would love a tour of your land, Sheila. Someday?
What I meant to say FIRST was this: You draw this image with perfect words..it’s always a gift to come along on your posts.
Thank you for sharing.
You share such peaceful autumn beauty.
Thank you, Susan. These September mornings are just stunning. God is magnificent in his creative work. Stunning, really.
Sometimes these images suggest a completely different world. And then I remember they are just a freeze frame of what was truly there. Not another world at all, but what’s right there.
“…each life is part beauty, part barb.” Thank you for that.
jennifer… i just want to thank you. you always, always, encourage me. don’t stop. you have such a gift. love you sister. em.
I love this beautiful truth and the picture you painted. It’s breath.
Really beautiful! Praise God! To God be all the glory!
This captured my heart…
“We are not yet what we will be. But we are moving toward it.” What hope awaits us in this truth. Each season a necessary part of the cycle of life. Each part of our journey, taking us closer to our God, closer to His heart, closer to home.
I also loved the quote by Martin Luther-
Ahhhhh. That’s all. Just a nice long sigh of contentment. Thank you.
I have just discovered your blog. I love your poetic style and inspiring words. Thank you for sharing those with your readers. May our Father richly bless you!
September mornings are so filled with nostalgia for me. My mind is often remembering my one room country school days, my plaid dresses and our beautiful dairy farm in WI. Thanks for memories connected to living life in God’s kingdom.