dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. ~Ps. 37:3
This land marks our time.
The glow of lights in the neighbor’s dairy barn: “Martins’ must be having problems tonight—milk house light is still on and it is nearly 10pm.”
The tracks from our barn door to the back step: “We can eat soon! Dad’s done chores and is on his way in from the barn! Everyone sit down at the table!”
Time marked by gestating livestock: “Three months, three weeks and three days from now, we’ll be birthing 15 new mamas.”
Time marked by weather: “Calling for a hard winter. Wonder how the winter wheat is making out under this bed of white. Spring will tell.”
Time marked by crops: “Old crop soybean markets don’t bode well for the next several months—neither do new crop soybean markets.”
Land dwellers we are. Those who live in the land are powerfully aware of their own blazing impotence, how much of time they cannot shape, form, control. The cattle on a thousand hills are His—they may give birth and they may not. The clouds are His chariot—they may grant rain and they may not. Every head of wheat may grow because He causes all things to grow—or not. We are at His mercy. He hovers over the the face of our deep. We see Him, in all His terrifying glory, in all that we cannot do.
True, this land ruthlessly exposes our utter powerlessness. And yet, we know it: these pastures are safe, good. For in our impotence, we can lay back into the omnipotence of the All-Powerful God. Who knows what the pastures of 2008 holds.
These pastures, this time, is safe. If I choose to dwell in His hand.
Lord, why is trusting You so hard? If I dwell you Your hands, what can possibly go wrong? Maybe that’s it… maybe, when I am scared, don’t thinks its all good, I dwell in the wrong place. I think I’d like to move year. Be a Hand Dweller.
From the archives
