As a child I felt the sting of punishment, but what I didn't see was that God was also using those moments to actively teach me deeper life lessons. The ones He knew I would need for the rest of my life. Those sweltering summer days in the corn field clanking stones into an old backhoe bucket or finger-numbing mornings bracing myself and shovel against drifted banks of snow were part of my physical preparation for the challenges and obstacles of life. Training my body, mind, and heart to lay down physical connections to my soul so I would have a infrastructure of active coping mechanisms when things around me appeared out of whack.
My Dad never caved to murmured complaints or allowed us to drag our sneakers in defiance on the gravelly driveway. He appreciated the value of simple labor when it came to developing perseverance, curbing fear, and clearing room for new growth. He made certain that the seeds were planted in our minds and hearts even if the shoots of that did not take off until years later. Like my Dad, I think God does the same thing. He points us in the right direction, and goes about setting us to certain tasks designed to teach us. He challenges us to stretch and grow and asks us to take on simple tasks we sometimes find meaningless and repetitive. As adults we can find ourselves guilty of reverting to dragging our feet and balking at what our Heavenly Father sets us to. However, if we get our bodies committed to the tried and true method of simple physical labor we can discover our minds and hearts will follow suit. As an adult, I love pulling weeds. There is nothing more satisfactorily simple than a vigorous session of yank and pull while talking to God about whatever negativity is trying to lodge itself inside me. The physical act of pulling and tugging helps aligns my mind to take over easing it out of my heart.
The Lesson
I told you to climb.
Clenching the ladder
With fear-narrowed eyes
I set it for you
At the very end of the branch
Under dense cover
So fingertip faith
Learned to hold tightly
Before grasping the prize.
I sent you for it.
Were you able to find it?
Chewing stranded hair
As spinning wheels jammed
I placed it there
On the other side of the vice
Next to the grinder
So developing minds
Learned to carefully listen
Before picking up the hammer.
I made you go out.
Could you finish the task?
Huffing mumbled clouds
Against drifted icy banks
I sent them for you
Along the rutted trail
Down the bank
So stubborn hearts
Learned how to dig out
Before carving new paths.
I pointed you to them.
Were you able to pull?
Squatting in the dirt
With rising summer-baked ire
I put them there for you
In between tender shoots
Strangling vital life
So rooted hurt
Learned to clear obstacles
Before harvesting the fruit.
I told you to do it.
Could you finish the task?
Brushing splintery debris
With achingly numbed fingers
I dumped it there for you
On the icy concrete slab
Amidst dismal pelting sleet
So bound hardening hearts
Learned to thaw and melt
Before pouring out love.
I called you to it.
Did you find them?
Reaching into smarting spaces
Swiping hands across stained cheeks
I grew them for you.
Scattered in tangled brambles
Hidden from view
So busy hands
Learned to alter perspectives
Before counting their blessings.
Shaunda M. Eck
Shaunda M. Eck