Now

On Good Friday I heard it.  The monster growl began some distance away and grew louder slowly, slowly. The huge tractors were on the roads, heading for nearby fields to break up spring soil, still in groggy winter slumber, and prepare it for the seeding and fertilizing to follow.

The weight of the machines and the sponginess of the soil around here make wet spring weather difficult for farming.  Conditions have to be just right in order to get started in the process of creating this year's crop for a timely harvest.  The Amish have more freedom with horses and wagons than the English with pneumatic tires and gasoline engines.  It is not uncommon to see big work horses in the field, pulling machinery to work the soil much earlier than our English tractors.  So much for the advantages of modern technology!

A farmer is on the timetable of the sun and rain, not necessarily the religious calendar.   If the field needs to be worked, and he conditions are right on Good Friday, if he is a spiritual soul, he communes with God in the field.

That is a lesson I must learn, to commune with God where I am in this moment.  I really have no other.  I was struck during a sermon on Hebrews 11:1 many years ago.  A friend in the ministry, a man known for Old Testament prophet-like faith and understanding of the nature of God, spoke these words out of the strength of many years of struggle and communion with his heavenly Father.  They continue to reverberate in my heart:

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." NIV

Now faith is the substance.  Now faith is.  Now faith.

Now.

There are slumbering winter fields in my heart, Lord, that need preparation for summer fruitfulness.  Roots of foolishness run deep within.  Make your furrows deeper, amend the soil.  May my heart yield a field rich in the fruit of Your Spirit.

May I learn how to enter into Your presence in my present.

Now.


"For the Present is where time touches eternity."  CS Lewis.