And the servants of the master of the house came and said to him, ‘Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? How then does it have weeds?’ Matthew 13:27
I actually listened to the words of the songs we sang yesterday in church. A lot of them were old songs and I marveled at the fresh new truths hidden in plain sight all of these years. And I was also struck by a line that reminded us that God knew from the very beginning of time that He would give His only begotten Son to save his scraggly, weedy, choked up but beloved seed, that the world through Him might be saved.
Sometimes I feel particularly weedy and wilted and hardly worthy of being called a child of the King. But He doesn’t give up; He doesn’t yank me out my my roots and toss me to one side. He waits. For He is the LORD of the harvest.
And somehow the righteous shining like the sun in the kingdom of the Father more than balances all of that weeping and gnashing of teeth that we call life. And I sort of get a glimpse of that, when I consider any harvest of any sort. It always involves lots of kneeling and digging and watering and fertilizing and weeding and pruning, but when all is said and done, there is the harvest celebrated with great joy. And in our case, it is most often artichokes with lots of butter and garlic and lemon juice squeezed all over.
If it weren’t somehow worth it all, there would be no farmers, and we would all die. The end result of all that weeping and gnashing is much, much bigger than the tiny seeds first sown. Thirty, sixty, a hundredfold.
And The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is larger than all the garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.
He makes everything beautiful, beautiful in His time.
Even me.
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