The Vision

I had a vision.

I saw a field of wheat crushed by strong winds; every stalk broken except for one lonely stem. Right in  the center of everything, crushed.  It just stood there swaying in the breeze.

Holy Spirit then spoke to me and said, “A bruised reed I will not break, nor stamp out the wick of a dimly lit candle.”

“But I am broken,” I said. “You have let life crush so many.”

“I will not break you,” he said. 

“But Lord, how do I know. Men have never kept their promises?”

“I AM NOT A MAN. I WILL NOT LIE.”

I feel broken because I’m alone, surrounded by destruction and hopelessness.  But, actually, despite everything around me and going on in me, I am indeed that ONE very vulnerable, very tender, very stubborn, single stem of wheat.

I bow. 

I bend, knowing He could crush me if He wanted and be justified in doing it. Is it a religious mindset or false humility that makes me aware of where I stand? Or have I been so deprived in body, mind, and spirit that even the devastion of this vision is a beacon of hope? 

I could see this single stalk of wheat as something with no future, for, although it wasn’t taken by the torrent, it will envitably be demolished by the farmer who will replant the field. 

I could focus on such inevitability, or I could tear through the shroud of such a dismal thought and sigh in wonder that it was given any length of life at all.  This stalks life alone in maze of desperation boasting of its single and only strength. To bend.

I marvel that it was the one stalk the Lord would use in a vision to bring hope to the hopeless. 

Marveling its distinct value and purpose. 

So, in this moment at least, I take a reprieve to penn the story of it’s fragile, but relevant life. 

What a gift of mercy and love it has been to me!