Bearing Tears and Precious Seed

At the onset of my ministry, I believed my tears to be an obstacle that I should overcome. My thoughts were that the tears hindered my delivery of the message. I wanted so much for them to go away, but I could not stop crying. One morning when it was time for me to feed my hogs, this burden weighed heavily upon my heart. I thought about it all the way down to the hog pen and decided that I would just ask God to take the tears away. If I could not preach without crying, then why preach at all. The only comfort I could give myself was a reminder that God would answer this prayer just as He had with the cigarettes.

It was early morning just before sunrise, and I suppose I could have found a better place to pray. There is something in nature, however, that brings us closer to the Lord. (You know, we could prepare sermons from what we learn in nature. A vegetable garden, a fruit-bearing tree, a vine, the birth of a baby farm animal-they all speak to us of the mighty hand of our Creator. I think that is the reason I have always loved farming. Watching a seed grow into a beautiful fruit tree, or seeing vegetables buried beneath the ground ought to draw anybody closer to God. I never tire of watching things grow. Whenever I need to be alone with God, I simply walk into my garden and He is everywhere). Anyway, that morning while I was feeding the hogs I felt the same way, so after filling the hogs’ trough, I knelt on my knees right in the muck. “Lord,” I prayed, “you have got to take these tears from me, or I’ll never be able to preach.” That was all I needed to say; a strange, eerie feeling swept over me and I knew God had answered my prayer.

Several days passed, and I was concerned about the delivery of my sermon on Sunday morning. I did not pray again about the tears because I knew God heard and answered my prayer. The tears were gone. When the time comes, I assured myself, you will do just fine. Now, when I think about it, I should have known I was not in the will of God, because if I honestly thought I was in His will, then why was I so worried? Finally, it was Sunday, and the time came for me to preach. Even as I walked to the podium and opened my Bible, I was not comfortable. I choked on the first words. For a moment, I could not swallow, and I stammered even with the reading of scripture. How I ever made it through that message, I will never know, but I knew when it ended, where my next stop was to be-the hog pen. When I was finally home, I went into the muck for a second time. “Lord,” I cried, “if you want me to be a crying preacher then give me back my tears. I can’t preach without them.” Folks, the tears came back, and they never left me again. I cannot tell you the reason for them. I guess they come from a burdened heart. I only know God wants me to have them. Perhaps tears can stir a hardened heart that my stammering tongue could not otherwise reach. I just thank God that His ways are not our ways.

Broken Vessels

Oh, to be clay in the Great Potter’s hands

Broken then shaped to His will

A vessel He empties and makes fit for use

A life to be molded and filled

A vessel He’s chosen to be like His Son

Transformed by the way of His cross

Washed in the blood that He shed for man’s sin

Then sent to a world that is lost