Heads bowed with the weight of ripe glory, the field watched and waited,
knowing the harvest was soon...
The rains had come, warmth and light had performed their duty,
and the growth to maturity had been slow yet sure...
Sure as the seasons, marked by moon, stars and sun...
Sure as the rotation and orbit of the earth...
Sure as the Creator who had set all in place
And whose presence was felt in the field every moment...
Growth was always up and out -
Up - branch arms and heads reaching and stretching always towards heaven, towards Him...
Out - spreading and growing and becoming fruitful and multiplying, not only reaching up, but reaching out - enlarging the harvest...
and the field knew what it was to be spent for the harvest...
The maturing crops wondered if the crown of creation noticed...
Did they notice how each blossom, each color, the bees visiting and pollinating, each shape, each spine or leaf or stem spoke?
Did they notice how every detail pointed to some aspect of their Creator, declared how the the Lover of their souls cared for them, revealed the depth of love He feels for them?
Did they know that He created beauty just so they could delight in it?
And so they could remember their true purpose when the deceiver sought to blind them to it?
Because the beauty they encountered in the world was designed to remind them that they, too,
were beautiful?
Because the beauty they encountered in the world was designed to remind them that they, too,
were beautiful?
And did they know that every time the wind blew, causing the harvest to gently wave, it was to remind them that the Lord of the Harvest was moving in each of them, and through each of them, and would be a catalyst to help them move together in the beauty of harmony?
The appointed days arrived, the people came to gather in the message
- and even harvested, the fields continue to speak out:
there is a harvest,
it is growing,
multiplying...
when the people gather the harvest, they see spiritual reality
before their eyes...
before their eyes...
and each generation is able to experience the unseen truths as well...
when they watch the fields ripen,
they understand the principles of growth,
that there are seasons to life...
And that counting the time, measuring the passing of days,
it wasn't to remember their need for salvation,
(tho' that also was woven in after the fall),
but that the days, and seasons, and years, and signs...
were all to be crescendoing love gifts...
that the Creation would understand cycles of life and growing and maturing...
all eternal realities...
...and that He is counting the days till we are all gathered together...
in one incredible colorful and unique and diverse harvest.
And the joy of repeating the counting is poured out -
over and over and over again...
generation after generation...
till the harvest is complete...
And the fields, gathered now to grace the harvest celebrations,
continued to bow their worship to their Maker.
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