Sowing in Tears, Reaping in Joy
In the early summer of 2011, I found myself under a beautiful bluebird sky in a strawberry field. Everything that week had kept me from getting there; disruptions and distractions were in abundance. That morning, I called to make sure the “pick-your-own-strawberries” farm was still open, and the receptionist assured me it would be the last day to visit because the strawberries were almost gone.
With three little ones in tow, we began our yearly tradition of strawberry picking. As I stepped out of our vehicle, the wind caught my face with the aroma of fresh strawberries. I was not looking to be “spiritual” that day. Honestly, I was focused on getting the job done as quickly as I could so I could get back home to make strawberry jam, just as my grandmother had taught me.
So, there I was – on my hands and knees in the dirt, pawing through the strawberry plants looking for just a few ripe berries – when I heard a still, small voice in my soul. It was a voice full of mourning and longing.
“The fruit is rotting on the vine.”
The impression stopped me in my tracks. I knew this voice. It was not audible, but it shook my soul. I knew it was the Lord speaking. Immediately, I began to pray. What did it mean? What was He trying to say to me?
Later that morning, after returning home from the field with our strawberries, and ready for a day in the kitchen, I was still deep in prayer.
“Father, please show me what You are trying to say.”
I opened my email and found a letter from my dearest friend serving in Morocco. She shared that one of her colleagues had had a dream about an orange tree with fruit rotting on its branches. They had prayerfully interpreted the dream as God showing them there was a harvest with ripe fruit ready, but not enough workers to gather it.
I sat in shock as I read her email. Before I could make sense of what I was reading, another email came into my inbox from my homeschooling network entitled “Rotting on the Vine.”
This sent me to my knees.
“Father, what are You calling me to do?” I asked.
Immediately, Luke 10:2 came to mind: “And He said to them, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.’”
The impression I received from this verse felt like a personal invitation. It was almost as if the Lord was inviting me to ask Him if I was willing to be sent into His harvest field.
The internal struggle was intense. We had just bought our first home and brought our third baby home from the hospital only a year before. I had my cozy little home in Vermont and a quiet, safe life. The wrestling in my soul was tremendous. The Lord was asking if I would lay down my quiet life to become a laborer in His field where the fruit was rotting on the vine.
Despite my inner turmoil, I gave my answer: “Yes.”
It has been 15 years since I said yes to my calling to Jewish ministry. Over the years, we have not seen an abundant harvest of Jewish people for God’s Kingdom, and that reality has stretched my faith in ways I could have never imagined. But recently, God has reminded me that His timetable is much different than mine. These years have been years of planting seeds for His Kingdom. We have seen beautiful fruit that took years to ripen, though not in the abundance I originally expected.
Fruit takes time to grow. It needs the right conditions for there to be a harvest. But it also takes laborers in the field, strategically placed by the Lord, to find the fruit growing secretly.
Everything I have experienced over the last 15 years of ministry has been used for my personal growth. Nothing has been wasted. In fact, every challenge and hardship I have faced has built a deep-rooted faith in my Maker.
What I did not realize was that part of the calling involved my own sanctification as God’s worker. He is just as concerned with my growth as He is with the growth of the harvest of souls entering His Kingdom.
My heart for the Jewish people has grown and expanded over the years. I have learned so much about this community, though often from the position of a spectator. Recently, when I thought all hope had been lost in reaching this “harvest field,” the Lord showed me He had something else in mind. At just the right time, He opened a door for me to serve this community in a deeply special way. When it looked like a door had closed, He quietly opened the back door for me to enter.
I had no idea during those dark years that the Lord was actually preparing me for this position. The lonely years of motherhood created a deep patience and reliance on the Lord that He is now using to serve in His harvest field.
Friends, do not grow weary in your work for the Lord. There will be a harvest if we do not give up. You may be surprised to discover that while you are serving in God’s harvest field, He is also tending to your own growth and fruitfulness. You, too, are His field. He is not finished with what He has started in you.
So I want to encourage you: be patient in the waiting.
The good work that God has begun in you, He will bring to completion (Philippians 1:6). He has gone before you in the good works He has ordained for you to walk in (Ephesians 2:10). What He has promised, He will fulfill (2 Corinthians 1:20).
“Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him” (Psalm 126:5–6).
Written by a Life in Messiah Staff Member
What helps you distinguish between the Lord’s leading and your own thoughts or emotions?
What has been the hardest part of waiting for “fruit” in your own life or work?
How do you recognize when a season of waiting is actually preparation?