Harvest - The Story
Today, I want to share the story of my new song Harvest with you. It is the first song I released in my Coming Home series of songs. It has been out streaming for a little over a week and what fun, unexpected experiences it has already led to! I knew, as I sang the lines to my own weary soul, that I could not be the only person that needed the soothing encouragement I felt in writing them.
The tumult of moving my family for the fourth time in five years, my faith was stronger than ever but my endurance at doing the actual tasks involved was at an all-time low. My husband and I agreed that we were surviving, not thriving. We hoped it would be only a season. Things would get easier. We would settle, again. We would move into more proverbial space to build a steady, faithful life in which to raise our girls. They are the focus.
Yet, I was worn out. The reality of laying down our recent jobs that we worked so hard to build only to start over again in a new space racked my brain as I drove to work each day. I wondered what would become of the ministry we had laid down. I pondered where the last healthcare facility I had left would be in a year. It can be hard to pass the baton, especially when you do not see clearly whose hand is reaching to take it up from your own.
And, there, Harvest came to my mind. I started to sing to myself the things I most needed to be reminded of: we all have a time and a place to serve in certain areas but eventually it must be passed on. Just as I was stepping into a new nursing role, another nurse was stepping out of theirs. Just as we laid down the reins to a ministry, another couple would come along and pick them up. Moses, himself, never made it into the promised land. He passed the mantle of leadership on, and for good reasons.
I sang the first line, “I’ll reap a harvest from seeds you have sown.” I sang it to myself but I imagined someone else singing it to me. The person reaching out for the baton I passed behind me, admonishing my heart that all the work was not in vain. All the love and dedication and prayer and perseverance was not for nothing. The apostle Paul came to mind, admonishing the Corinthian church that it is not just one man’s job to lead and shepherd them. Paul said to them in 1 Corinthians 3:6-8,
“I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The man who plants and the man who waters have one purpose, and each will be rewarded according to his own labor.”
The song flowed on in my driving prayer, “Though you may not see it, I want you to know. The seeds that you’re planting now are promised to bloom. And I’ll reap a harvest then because of you”.
Stored safely in my voice notes application on my phone, I re-listened to this melody and felt lighter. It amazes me how songs of prayer help us to truly lay our burdens at the foot of the cross.
My husband had been piddling around on the guitar one evening shortly after this song came to mind. As I listened to him play, it struck me that he was playing the same song I had been singing in the car. We sang and played along together and there was no doubt, this song was a stamp sealing the truths of our hearts’ needs in Christ for this very season of transition.
Harvest would come, even if we would not get to see it. Likewise, we will harvest from the sowing work of others before us. This Kingdom work is a shared endeavor. It is God who makes it grow. It is also God who chooses the task for the servant. Following Him is what matters. He knows our hearts and our capacity. We can’t escape Him (Psalm 138:7).
Trusting God to know my very heart and capacity can be both a relief and a fearful reality all at once. What I mean by this is that there is great comfort in knowing that the gracious Author of my story knows everything bound up in my heart. While there is comfort in this, there is also a healthy fear. He really knows it all. He knows my own motives better than I do. He knows every side of every story and, by some miracle, He still loves each of us and desires to be in relationship with us. What?! This fills me with a humbling fear that is quickly turned to merciful joy every time I think on these things!
This very truth is what I fixed my mind on as I sang, “You did the best you could and, in Him, it is good.”
The next weekend at church, the pastor preached on Mark 14. He taught through the woman pouring perfume on Jesus and how those around him rebuked her, judging her actions, motives, and wisdom in doing this. When the pastor read the first part of verse 8 out loud, tears poured from my eyes.
“She has done what she could…” (excerpt from Mark 14:8)
Jesus knew what she could do. He would not have made this firm statement if he did not. He knew what she could do. She did what she could. My heart shifted upon hearing that. This woman does the best she can to honor her Lord and ends up doing more than she could have planned or imagined. Her action serves a greater purpose than simply coming to honor and adore Him, but was the anointing of oil that prepared him for his coming burial - a hurried burial into a borrowed tomb.
How many times have I wondered if I did all I could do? Probably more times than I care to admit. But there is comfort from the Creator - the Eternal Gardener - that the seeds that should grow will do just that. He is present, near, active. We keep on sowing, watering, weeding, and harvesting. We do the best we can. He fills in the gaps, and then some.
The song came together. Harvest flowed from my own need to be reminded of truth and I pray that it keeps flowing out to do healing, restorative work in the hearts of it’s hearers.
Thank you for reading along.
In the Love of Christ,
Hannah
