Burnout...a gift of grace

When we first moved to Sabbath Rest Farm, there was a lot of clearing out to do. Over the years the ground had grown up in multiflora rose, black pines, and briars. The pastures were run down and the grass blanketed with weeds. The hill in front of our house was cleared as the old road, deeply rutted, was reshaped and a new road put in. The debris was piled and burned on the side of the hill after the work was completed. The next spring, as the grass greened, a patch of grass at the site of the burn pile, was noticeably greener than all the other grass on the hillside. It continues to be greener each year.
Farmers in South Georgia routinely burn their pastures every year at winter’s end. Daddy always said it killed off some weed seeds, removed last year’s thatch from the grass and provided some natural fertilizer. Preparation was simple but necessary. You put some water in a tank on the truck and drove the fence line, wetting down the edges of the field and the fence posts. The water also meant you could drench wayward embers. Grass burns quickly and cleanly so the farmer always stayed with the fire, walking the perimeter, making sure the burn did not escape. You kept an eye on the fence posts because you did not want them to burn and when the little fire had raced across the field, you drove the field again, putting out hot spots. By protecting your fence line, you were also protecting your neighbor’s land and the surrounding woodland. When spring came, the green grass grew cleanly, evenly across the fields because all the trash had been burned away.
These past few months, the pasture of my soul has been burned in preparation for new life to come. These burns have come before and will come again. I hope I have been a good farmer, tending the burn line, checking the hot spots, being present to the process. I have used the Water of Life to contain the burn and now wait for the greening time to come. The thatch of complacency and the weed seeds of “I can do it myself” have been burned away. Once again I have been given a gift, the reminder that we all stand in need and as we ask for help, receive help and in return become helpers, we are the Family of God. Thank you, my loved ones for building fence lines, feeding animals, calling and kicking my rear end, calling and not kicking my rear end, bringing food, porch sitting, listening and loving me through this grass burn. When you need me, give a holler and I will return the favor. Grace was given to each of us, Saint Paul says, according to the measure of Christ’s gift. My tank is full, overflowing with grace and I am grateful.