Corn stalks

We often drive to the larger city in our area for doctor’s appointments, shopping, and whatever else we may need that we can’t find where we live.  And I’ve come to find that I love the drive.  It’s gorgeous.  The farms, the rolling hills, the picturesque views of the way the land unfolds before us…Often I notice the light upon a crop, a barn in the sunset, the autumn leaves filling my entire view, the snowscape of a Wisconsin winter and I wish I had my camera to capture it all.  This particular week, I took our youngest for a well-child check up and noticed a farmer harvesting (could’ve been simply clearing for all I know—I’m not agriculturally inclined) a corn field.  He was finished, but there were a few bent, mangled stalks on the very edge of the field. 

^"A bruised reed he will not break,
   and a faintly burning wick he will not quench”--Isaiah 42:3

My sweet husband took our whole family out on Saturday and was so patient in stopping along our drive home while I took pictures.  

Perhaps it’s this day and age of Facebook, of having everyone else’s accomplishments in front of you at all times.  It is so easy to compare, and there is lots available for comparison.  I read what other mothers are doing with their children or how they take care of their homes (an area I am sorely lacking in).  I see on Pinterest the brilliant creativity and artistry of others.  I listen to women patiently teach, gently discipline and guide their children.  And on the days where our home needs a good vacuuming and I’m certain our children could use gentility and patience from me, I can’t seem to get out of my pajamas, caught up on the dishes, and say more than, “GET OFF YOUR SISTER NOW!”  It is easy to compare, to feel  inadequate in the vocations the Lord has placed us in, to see yourself as useless unto the purpose you’ve been called.  But as I pondered those stalks, the Lord was teaching me.  

First, He has not asked me to be like anyone else.  He’s called me to be me.  To parent the children He’s given to us.  He has not asked anyone else to mother these children; He has asked me, with the unique abilities, personality, and tools He’s given me.  So…enough with the comparison already.  It is lovely to gain insight from others, to be inspired by them, encouraged, and to learn, but not to use others as a measuring tool for success in this vocation.  

Secondly, I thought of my grandmother.  She would often say, towards the end of her life, that she didn’t know why she was here any longer.  She didn’t understand why the Lord didn’t take her already.  As I’ve worked with the elderly, the poor, sick, and dying, I’ve heard lots of people ask the same thing. But the brokenness of others teaches us.  It shows an utter reliance:  relying upon doctors, care facilities, medicine, soup kitchens, the mercy and kindness of others.  And that temporal reliance points ALL of us, regardless of health or physical ability, to our own need for a Savior and our complete reliance upon our merciful Lord.  Reliance upon His provision, both temporally and eternally.  The brokenness of others also provides us, the Body of Christ, the opportunity to serve. (see Matthew 25: 31-40)

The brokenness of others also points out that we are all broken.  Some may be better at hiding it, but it’s there.  I’m learning, as I grow and mature in faith and in life, to embrace the ways that I fall short.  There’s a quote by Leonard Cohen, “There’s a crack in everything.  That’s how the light gets in.”  In my sinfulness, inadequacies, and damaged state, that's where the Lord shines forth.  When I can't do it any longer, the Lord equips and provides.  When I am ashamed and repentant, the Lord forgives.  I remember reading Brennan Manning and his saying that when we acknowledge our sin, our inability, our brokenness, we are filled with Christ. 

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." 1 John 1:9

The brokenness ceases to exist.  Like a vase shattered, but not reassembled.  We are made entirely whole and new in Christ.  All the brokenness is gone.  All of what’s wrong with me is gone.  And being filled with Christ is far better than whatever I can manage on my own.  The best makeup in the world can only cover-up; the blemish is still there underneath.  Christ takes it away and replaces the void with Himself.  

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come." 2 Corinthians 5:17

Back to the corn on the side of the road…

The thing is, you never know how the Lord is using you.  When it seems you’ve been passed over by the farmer, when you aren’t even good enough for the harvest, you may be teaching someone driving by.  Being used by the Lord, in your damaged state, to teach something very powerful.  The Lord is at work in your weakness, in your mangled, bent state.  He will not leave you nor crush you.  

"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, 

for those who are called according to his purpose." --Romans 8:28