Ever felt cut down?  Dried up?  Bundled heavy?  Tightly strung?  Thrown in a heap?  Left alone in some dark, dry place?

I can relate.

This past week the farmers rolled into the fields all around us, even ours.

Make hay while the sun shines, the old adage goes.

We take that literally around here.  Horse hay must be cut, dried, flipped, baled, hauled and stored if you want your animals to make it through winter when pastures are weighed down with snow.

So I watched the whole process—the cutting of timothy, fescue, alfalfa, clover.  The purples, pinks, whites, and greens ending up in a heap, cut close to the ground.

In a day, tops of hay lines dried.  Tractor came again the next day and the next.  Turned every row twice.  Top became bottom; bottom became top.

The goal?

Get sun on that grass and allow breezes to blow over and through . . .

Hear this, Soul!  Hear this!  Let God warm you, prepare you!  Let Holy Spirit wind make you ready for feeding a hungry world and the ones who will not know their need until hard times hit—‘til they’re cut down and dying.  Then they will seek.  Then they will come out from their famine-worn places with want of your storehouse set up during seasons of plenty. 

But preparation is key with hay and with God’s people.

Because moldy hay is unhealthy hay for horses.  And rotting Christians are no good for the world.

Preparation is key.

People prepare hay.  God prepares people.  Both hay and people need cut and turned upside down it seems.  It’s all part of the preparation for feeding . . .

And that cutting and turning is hard.  Hard work.  Painful work.  I wonder if grass hurts.  I sure do.  And sometimes I scream because the pain is bad.  But know I know that not all pain is bad.  When there’s holy purpose, pain is good because it draws us to the heart of our First Love.

When we’re cut down, whether by people, unexpected circumstances or just plain aging issues, I try to remember in whom I will always stand strong—no matter what.  God helps me turn pain into valuable assets for myself and for others when I let God use pain for good.

So no matter my state—rooted and swaying in summer breeze or cut down and turned upside down, God’s purposes will prevail for me.  He has promised.  And I believe.

He picks me up and holds me.  He gathers me in and gives me a place.  He takes me and feeds me to the hungry.  I am blessed all the more in the giving to others.

And unlike the grass in our fields that withers when cut from its roots, I will remain rooted in God who will raise whatever has withered in my life, whatever has been cut down knowing God will make me green with life and whole once again—come what may. 

This is my sure hope.  And yours.  In Christ. 

Whatever life cuts down, Christ raises up.

Remember this today, O Soul.  And be glad.