Yesterday
we (myself, my sister and brother-in-law) were walking on this road in
the woods, and we came upon a field that had been rained on the night
before. My sister was off somewhere and I pointed to Daniel how weird it
looked that the rain and wind managed to lay to the ground most of the
grass whilst leaving patches of it untouched. It looked strange. And
this poem by Robert Frost came to mind,
“The rain to the wind said,
'You push and I'll pelt.'
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged--though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.“ (Lodged, Robert Frost)
I kept thinking about a great many things while we kept walking. I ended up going in circles in my head and debating myself like a crazy person. I was comparing myself to that grass imagining myself in a field I did not choose, but alas I was there. I have busied myself the best I knew how to grow in every possible way, both as a human and as a child of God. Some sheep came from time to time and munched off my tips, but here I am, still a blade of grass. And suddenly, without rhyme or apparent reason, comes the storm. Both wind and rain combine their strength which is enough to topple rocks and carve them if need be, and they proceed to come down on my little blade of grass. And I know I can't win. It's no contest. I know how to brave the wind on its own. I know how to withstand the rain on its own, but when they join forces to make a storm, I'm a joke in their path. I can do all the dancing in the world in the wind but it's no use when rain pelts down on me at the same time. My roots can only go so deep. A child could pull me out if he felt so inclined. When winds (circumstances) form an alliance with rain (my flesh) and their attack lasts long enough and frequent enough it can lay me flat on my face in the best case scenario and can destroy me in the worst case scenario. So what's the point really?
I kept walking very sullen carrying all these things in my heart and then I remembered The Lord. If you consider all that and don't include Him in the equation, it is pretty pointless. But because He is in the equation, that changes everything. With Him in the picture I am not just a blade of grass lost in a field full of grass, just a face lost in the crowd without anything distinguishing it from the rest. To Him, every blade of grass is of utmost significance. It says in the Talmud, Mid rash Rabbi, Bereishit 6:10 “Said Rabbi Simon: 'Every single blade of grass has a corresponding angel in the sky which hits it and tells it to grow." Continuing it says how much more is it true for humans made in the image of God. I am not interested for the purpose of this article in the theology behind that statement, but in the sentiment it is trying to impart. Jesus said about the grass of the field, “Consider the lilies, how they grow: They do not labor, nor do they spin. But I say to you, not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed as one of these. But if God thus clothes the grass in the field, being here today and tomorrow being thrown into the furnace, how much more you, O you of little faith!” (Luke 12:27-28)
Even If I had no value in the eyes of God more than a blade of grass, I'd still be more cared for than Solomon, the wise rich King. Yes, I might be at the mercy of the elements, being tossed and turned and pelted on until I have no choice but kneel, yet I serve a God that sees value in every fiber of my being.
“A bruised reed He will not break and a smoldering wick He will not extinguish; He will faithfully bring forth justice.” (Isaiah 42:3) He is a God that honors resilience and rewards it. If I hang on even by the skin of my teeth He will not let go, for He cannot go back on His word.
I may be a frail little blade of grass in danger of falling over any minute, but He knows all this. Sometimes I feel guilty of even going through the storm in the first place, but the storms are not of my own choice. They come. Whether I want them to or not. And they can easily level me to the ground to the point I am drowned in the mud and it looks like I'll never rise again, but by His grace I'll stand.
I'll end this with a quote I have loved for years. It's from the movie, The Count of Monte Cristo: “Life is a storm. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. You must look into that storm and shout "Do your worst, for I will do mine!”
And what can you do, you ask? I'll abide in Him.
by Cristina Pop
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