“Take my life and let it be ever, only, all for Thee”, pleads the hymn writer. The cry pulses with yearning, hunger. He hungers to be fully owned by One who is wiser and more capable in the great undertaking. Of fashioning the apprentice to a pure reflection of Jesus. Ever only all for Thee.
Every young farm kid knows the sensation of freshly-plowed earth, of feeling its cool softness at the entry of an eager pair of bare feet. What delight – shoeless and sockless – toes and heel pushing themselves into rich soil on an early Summer day.
For me, the simple action sparked a magic “yippee!” moment. Following the plow blade’s piercing work, the Alfalfa field got nicely smoothed out by a clunky tractor-drawn implement called a harrow. If, in these steps of sowing-prep the soil itself could speak, it might have bellowed out a loud objection, “Stop this, Stop, OK?!”
Hardship.
“Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardship as a pathway to peace”.
As a Christ-follower, I might generally offer up those first couple of Serenity Prayer lines with little complaint. The last seven words? Not so much.
Another barefoot memory I relish is a little self-imposed goal set while trailing my daddy across fresh-turned soil. While it falls short of Olympic Trial standards, my goal was marked by two firm rules. (1) Keep up with my daddy’s long strides and, (2) With every leap forward, plant my small foot at the center of his large boot print. Succeeding at the two goals – for even a short while – left me a little goofy and giddy.
While human life can and does reflect seasons of enjoying each moment at a time, we are creatures of paradox. Up seems down. Down seems up. Healthy growth for the believer in doing life well calls for episodes of hardship.
These seasons come our way unavoidable, inescapable. And, in some cases, fiercely painful. Yet, in Christ, there is held before us a bedrock assurance. Goodness and flourishing will meet the pilgrim in good time. If not now, at the other side.
©2023 Jerry Lout