Nothing in the house

The photo above is of a rapeseed field near my house. I took it earlier this Summer when the field was alive with colour and life and the rapeseed was ripe, ready to be made into oil. The photo below is of that same field, today. Empty and bare and freshly ploughed. If i'm honest, that's how i feel right now - pretty barren and like someone's churned me up inside - but then i was reminded again that there is a season for everything, even for the farmer's harrow and the prong's that dig deep -  such plowing is necessary, it removes weeds and prepares the soil for a new season. And next Summer that land will be full of rapeseed again....... It's just it takes time and requires patience... 

"Thy servant, Lord, hath nothing in the house,

Not even one small pot of common oil;

For he who never cometh but to spoil

Hath raided my poor house again, again,

That ruthless strong man armed, whom men call Pain.

I thought that i had courage in the house,

And patience to be quiet and endure,

And sometimes happy songs; now i am sure

Thy servant hath not anything,

And see, my songbird hath a broken wing.

My servant, I have come into the house - 

I who know Pain's extremity so well

That there can never be the need to tell

His power to make the flesh and spirit quail:

Have I not felt the scourge, the thorn, the nail?

And I, his Conqueror, am in the house,

Let not your heart be troubled, do not fear:

Why shouldst thou, child of Mine, if I am here?

My touch will heal thy songbird's broken wing,

And he shall have a braver song to sing.

- Poem by Amy Carmichael - 

Although i know little of the real suffering caused by physical pain that she describes... the rest of the poem does describe how i feel..... and i'm grateful for the last 2 verses, written from God's perspective, reminding us that we are never completely empty, when He abides with us...