It doesn’t look like I’ll make it to the funeral. I’m not sure how I feel about it—or maybe I do but don’t like what it says.
I know the fields are running. I know that we’re behind. But what are a couple hours with respect to a life in full?
I believe life is dependent on more than just ourselves and that God works and aids those that listen—and I don’t believe we are. It’s why a gear box breaks on the front-end of harvest when it’d be better to wait, and you lose all possible profit of the day in cost of part. It’s why you get stuck multiple times in a day—waiting for another hand to pull you loose with another tractor and cable—when you should be at your son’s last baseball game of the season. He and you both wish that you were there—but you’re not; you’re stuck and alone buried on a hillside because you chose to defer to another hours and moments of your life God afforded and enabled for a higher memory and meaning.
I will make it up, offer one of those gifts we give from guilt knowing all someone wanted was our presence—but we weren’t there.
I will plant the field—because that’s what farmers do when behind, regardless of others and world. It will be our worst field because God judged and rewards of our hearts and not our efforts and we will reap from spirit that we sowed.
I will probably run out of gas, fall short before I finish—after the funeral is over and I have to drive to town all the same, in frustration rather than in fellowship.
Of the introspection, at least I see how dumb I am for not doing as I know I should—that’s why God puts it on your heart.
Right now, the purpose is Testament—speak so that others too might see—and by the grace of God, going forward, we may better listen, follow, and do as we know we should through God’s encouragement to heart.