Seeds

All of sudden, just like that, I was there.

He met me with a, “Welcome” and a handshake. Then, he smiled and said my name.

“How’d you know my—”

He just patted my hand, “We’ve been expecting you.”

As soon as we passed through the gate, I saw them. “Oh, boy, this’ll take awhile.”

He chuckled a little and shook his head, “It won’t take a moment.”

There were people, lots and lots of people in a line that stretched as far as I could see.

We stepped toward the line, to hurry up and wait. For what? I didn’t even know.  

But then I noticed, something wasn’t right. All the folks were facing us.

I’ve never liked crowds; especially like this, all eyes were on me.

I turned to go, but a man grabbed my hand. He pumped it up and down. “Thank you” his smile wide, “thanks a million times, thanks,” his eyes aglow.

My mouth dropped open. “Huh? What for?”

Before he could answer someone patted me on the back and gave me a hug. “Thank you so very much.”

All at once, a group of children were hugging my legs and giggling.

Then, a tall man stood before me. He rested his hands on my shoulders, his mouth quivered a bit, he swallowed hard, “I appreciate you, sir. Really, I do.”

I’d never seen anything quite like it. “What’s going on?” I’m no movie star. I’m not a famous, anything. It had to be a dream; but it seemed so real…and kind-of awesome.

A lady gave me a hug that brought back memories of how grandma used to do.

One by one, I was propelled along this sea of people.

This must be how a celebrity feels.

Now, I was shaking hands—with both hands.

As we eased along; I wracked my brain for anything I could’ve done to deserve this abundant gratitude. I mean, all these people couldn’t possibly be wrong. Right?

Did I accidentally do something awesome?

Did I stumble into a crime scene and thwart a murderous plot? Perhaps it was caught on camera and I’m a hero and don’t even know it.

No, that’s just dumb. Couldn’t be it.

I scoured my memory some more. Once upon a time, I started a Bible study in high school, was a youth pastor, traveled with an evangelism team, started a church, wrote articles and books about Jesus…that’s good stuff, that had to be it. I’ve finally been discovered. At last, my ship’s come in.

I smiled and shook another hand.

Who am I kidding? That couldn’t be it. I went too far with my girlfriend and the Bible study fizzled. I quit being a youth pastor when the pastor and I had a falling out—then, he and his wife split and tore the church apart. My travels with the evangelist were only to help me heal from a divorced and broken heart. The church start was a miracle to be sure. I didn’t have a clue, but God worked and it grew—until I managed to screw things up and walk out. My writing was a bright and shiny gift; that I left in the corner to gather dust, instead of being used. 

But everyone seemed so sincere.

They simply had to be, sincerely wrong.

I’ve failed more than not. Even my best is full of holes—just filthy rags, that’s for sure.

But they kept coming.

We kept easing along.

Everyone with only one thing to say…thanks.

You’d think they’d tire and go home. But, instead, they looked like there was no place they’d rather be.

“Why?” I must’ve asked a million times. “Why?” They’d just smile and make way for the next person in line.

Finally, I’d had enough. “That’s it. No more. I don’t deserve any of this. It’s a big mistake. You have me mixed up with someone else.”

The one who’d met me at the start, looked me in the eyes. “This has nothing to do with what you deserve.”

I tilted my head and raised a brow.

“Seed time and harvest.” He smiled and nodded as if that explained everything.

The blank look on my face must’ve said, I don’t have clue what you’re talking about.

He made a small laugh. “Small seeds, make big trees.” Again, he nodded, as if that cleared it all up.

That dumb look on my face remained.

He put a hand on my shoulder. “Without even knowing it, you planted seeds. Little things, little deeds, little seeds.” He looked at the people. “In one way or another, they benefited.”

The fog started to lift…a little. I nodded, slightly.

“Now, it’s their turn, to plant.” He crossed his arms and smiled. “That’s how it works…seed time and harvest.”

All I could see, was what was left undone, unsaid. All the wasted time and opportunity. All the things I should not have said, or done, but did. I just wanted to weep. “My life, my whole life, was pretty much a total fail.”

He wrapped me in a bear hug that squeezed away every trace of sorrow. Then, he whispered “The One who sees every sparrow, counts every hair, names every star, surely cherishes every seed. Especially those that bore no fruit, those that fell on stony, shallow, overgrown ground. Those sown in faith, in love, with no hope of harvest…those, by no means went unnoticed.” He stepped back, looked at me and smiled. “I want to show you something. Close your eyes.”

I did and was twelve again, kneeling at an old wooden pew. I had no gifts. Couldn’t sing. Got nervous around people. Wasn’t big and strong. Nothing special. No way could I do anything great. But, with a soft and squeaky voice, I asked, “If You can use me, to honor You—” my shoulders shook, a salty rivulet appeared on the pew— “I’d consider it an honor.”

Then I saw the things that mattered most.

The seeds that grew weren’t at all what I’d expected. It wasn’t up front, behind the pulpit, but in the back, changing stinky diapers, wiping noses, reading stories, cleaning toilets and hauling out trash.

It wasn’t seeing my name thousands of times in print, but scribbled little notes, texts and letters to family and friends.

It was repairing a widow’s screen door and shoveling snow for a disabled vet.

It was visiting coworkers in jail and spending Christmas in the hospital teaching a friend to play chess.

It was helping the little old lady in aisle four, clean up that mess.

It was playing with the kids, when I’d rather rest.

It was secretly filling a gas tank or tucking a twenty in a purse.

It was lying in bed each night and praying, that somehow, God could use my simple life.

All of a sudden, everything went silent and white.

I knew, I was in the presence of One who created stars and listened to the squeaky voiced prayer of a boy kneeling at an old wooden pew.

I fell on my face.

He lifted my chin.

“I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.”

I shook my head. My lips trembled. No words would come.

“Inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to Me.” He smiled.  

I bowed my head…and smiled, too.

“Well done My good and faithful son.”