Waiting a Heavenly Harvest

Posted on June 19, 2016

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In the effort to be completely authentic and life a #nofilter life, I write.

Today a deep winter of my heart was opened and laid bare. For those of you that have lived with the absence of the fruitful spring, my heartaches with you {“mourn with those who mourn” Romans 12:15}. For those of you that have not only danced in the full vineyards of the spring but reaped heavenly, yet challenging at times, harvest, my heart rejoices and wants to be a part of every single detail {“rejoice with those who are joyful” Romans 12:15}. There have been many dreams, imaginations, hopes, artful productions, etcetera that have never come full fruit. At first I would have said that I am simply the dreamer and it is for others to complete or fulfill. I was lying. I was afraid. Bound under the lies of perfection [lack thereof], oppressed by the lies of failure, and strangled by the vines of “you were never the right one…”. None of those are true. Each of us are created with intention and purpose. There are fibers of our being that were seeds waiting to produce a harvest at just the right time. Not my time. The Perfect time. Some I just chased without the proper tools or preparation.  Some I put up on a shelf as the forgotten, never to come to pass. I could help others slow down and pack the right tools. I have been blessed with a gift to help others see their shelf of “the forgotten” and get them down, shine them up, and see them be fulfilled. I am and have been fully capable to do that with everyone but myself… until now.
Now, I am free. I am free from the bondages and the oppression that once strangled me for decades. Yes… Decades. I know who I am, what I am shaped for, where I come from, the fiber of my being, but most of all the ONE whom created and set it all into motion before I was born. It is because of Him and in Him that I am because HE IS. So, what does this have to do with the winter of my heart? Well, in all honesty we all have them and the seasons always take place in the jungles of our lives… every single life[Ecclesiastes 3:3-8]. I have had many of my winters move into spring, where I have seen death turn to life and I have danced in the thunderous rain. I have played in the sunlight and walked through the deserts of summer. In the recent years I have been reaping a beautiful harvest of late summer and early fall. Rejoice, crying, asking, and singing through it all.

The winter that is still long awaiting for harvest is the deep heavy snow of longing… longing to conceive, carry, and birth to life children. Motherhood. The exclusive special club that I have longingly watched through the brilliant windows of experience. The precious gift that many have been blessed with but the brilliant few rise to the occasion. Motherhood. The “hood” I have wanted to buy a house in and live in its cul-de-sac. It is not a longing I have talked about much. I bought into the brand “NOT4U” as I paid the price for the labels excepting the cost as a matter of fact. I have pitched a tent allowed for it to be filled to the gills as I outstretched the pegs as far as possible with promise, “adoption”, care, spiritual babes, etcetera always rejoicing in the process and thankful for opportunity [Isaiah 54]. I have taken a posture of protective stances for my snow laden “dead tree” that has seen to many “oh, I’m so sorry” glances, “well, have you thought about…” signs nailed onto it, and “… but you would be such a good mom” empty swings hanging from its branches. The unexpected washes of sorrow that have filled oceans with tears has been there with in my heart. Still, I rejoice and embrace the current reality. I am a year from forty with none to carry our name, genes, or legacy.

In the recent year [5 months] the snow has begun to sparkle the way it does with the brilliance of the sun dances upon it. I have torn off the labels and no longer buy into the brand (of which I have realized is unrealistically expensive) that has cost me too much. I am now choosing to listen for the snow birds to sing and wait patiently with expectancy for the spring, for my “tree” is not dead… just waiting for the perfect time and purpose. Just in case you have the question tiptoeing around: no I am not currently with child, however I know in the fiber of my being it will come to pass. I have learned, through many occasions and opportunities, to no longer set things up on the “forgotten” shelf. He sees, knows, hears, and has planned (before I was even knitted together [Psalm 139]) my days and longings. So in that I have hope and rejoice.

This does not mean I don’t ache at times, but now it is the wait. It does not mean I don’t cry, but now it is followed by a joyful reminder. This does not mean I understand, but my faith is deepened and discernment is strengthened. Hope has breathed in new life. Grace has set me free. I am no longer under the oppression. I am no longer claimed by the bondage. I no longer buy into the lie but sold out on the One who IS, in a way that I had blindly locked out in this area.

So, yes, motherhood is still

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Soaking up baby love

winter in my heart. Spring and harvest are coming! I will worship while we are waiting.

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