Last summer I grew a new variety of corn for grinding into meal. It’s an heirloom variety called Bloody Butcher dent corn; the stalks were amazing, about 11 feet tall and the cobs were dark red. Only recently we shelled the corncobs that we managed to salvage from the squirrels. The kernals looked so pretty in their glass jar in storage, but they were decorative until I ground them into meal. Today for lunch we fried cornmeal mush to eat with eggs, and it tasted amazingly fresh, nourishing. (Buttery too. All THM folks may need to look away for a bit because it was a glorious mix of E and S.)
In my head I sometimes wish that the daily grind would be just pleasant aromas of coffee. I thought about this when I cooked that cornmeal. It wasn’t so pretty anymore, greyish with sprinkles of red, but it was in a form that has the potential to grow sturdy children and strengthen starving people anywhere in the world. That’s why we grew corn.
I would rather have life-giving qualities than pointless shelf life in a pretty jar, wouldn’t you? There are some relevant quotes that I copied a long time ago. Both were written by George Mueller. I think he knew what he was talking about.
“Self-denial…
not so much an impoverishment
as a postponement:
We make a sacrifice of a present good
for the sake of a future and greater good.
Whatever be done…
in the way of giving up,
or self-denial,
or deadness to the world,
should result from the joy we have in God.”
This second quote has ministered to me when I felt like I was pouring love and training and mercy into a child, yet the need wasn’t going away and the results were not instant like I wished. Why weren’t the prayers working, like they seem to for other people?
“One of the great secrets
in connection to successful service for the Lord
it to work as if everything depended
upon our diligence,
and yet not to rest in the least
upon our exertions,
but upon the blessing of the Lord.”
I need that restful place to live and work. No, I don’t get to quit my job and “just let God do it”. He expects me to keep on, to endure to the end. But He is really doing the work, and that is where the JOY comes in.
How my measly few kernels get ground into powder and turned into a source of life for others is His business, not mine.
All I have to do is submit myself to the grinding.
I wish it were February all year long! Reading your posts is like a daily refreshing drink.
Thank you, friend! I love to hear from you.
Thank you for writing. Some days I get so overwhelmed by the constant whir of the urgent and needful. I’m going to copy off that last quote!
You are welcome. ❤