Many of us have traveled the expanse of prairie lands, in the mid-West, witnessing as we speed past the endless miles of corn visible both through our windshield and unendingly through our rear-view mirror. Have you ever wondered how did it get there, or inquire about the geometric exactness of each row? Achieving such feats requires immense labor, one so detailed that it determines if each individual stalk will bear an abundance of ears, or fade away fruitless, in the summer's heat. It all begins with a single kernel carefully planted in the ground. Too deep and it lacks the strength to break the surface, too shallow and its ability to survive is lost almost immediately.
Today’s podcast is titled
The Heart of the Field
Matthew 9:36-39
36 When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. 37 Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; 38 therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.
What does it mean to cultivate, to bring forth something that did not previously exist? What does it mean to witness the splendor thereof? It is indeed a labor of love and persistence.
The not so familiar term de-tassel is a term used to explain how corn stalks are pollinated to bring forth ears of corn during harvest. Similarly, life gives us the ability to pollinate the harvest as a show of our labor for Christ.
Each day a worker is assigned a row, with their name on it, that extends for miles in a single direction. Likewise, God gives us each specified tasks, none of which are identical. Much like the row, he has appointed us, and placed our name against our assigned tasks.
The beginning of each row seems harmless enough, as they rarely exceed the height of two to three feet. The beginning is our practice, and where we begin to understand exactly what is required of us. At this point we are permitted to experience mistakes, and gain experience from them. They are at times difficult, but they do not place us in jeopardy, or inadvertently in harms way.
As you get to the middle, however, a mile away, the cornstalks often exceed six feet in height. Towering columns that stretch for an infinity. However, as the laborer reaches the end of their row, the stalks appear to decrease in height once more. Coincidentally, much like life, we labor and fight among the giants of the field, utilizing the experience gained along the way. As the tempest rages with us in the midst, we cannot fail to give, what God has appointed. It is our row, we own it, we cannot choose which to permit to pollinate and those that will not. The de-tasseling is our labor (watering and planting), the pollen is like the holy spirit, who allows the ears of corn to bud, and spring forth during harvest (God giveth the increase). As we fight and labor among the giants, and finally see daylight, we realize we are only half finished, because we must return once again along the opposite side of the lengthy row. We should not be perplexed that God has sent us forth once more, as our labor has not yet concluded, souls yet to be saved. Yes, he gives us a reprieve every once and again, but we can ill afford to rest on our achievements and say to ourselves conclusively, well done.
