Originally posted to our ministry page on Facebook July 12, 2019
The field in the photo is just down from our house here in Jogja. Just last week, it was towering with beautiful sugar cane. We’ve watched it spring up since we moved in. I was on a morning walk with Eli, and there were four men using machetes to chop down the strong, tall plants. By the time I came back through on my evening walk, it was gone.
I had no idea the sugar went so far back. From the alley way, you could really only see to the tree line. I found myself thankful that 1, I don’t have to do physical labor as a career and 2, that if I did, I’d probably have more than a machete to work with.
The next morning, smoke filled our neighborhood. So much so, that we didn’t put our clothes outside to dry, and Eli and I didn’t go on our walk. By the evening, the smoke had cleared, so we could see the whole field smoldering like a hot coal after good BBQ. I don’t begin to understand the science behind it, but I suppose burning was best for the crops. I assume the man who owns this particular field just wants to replant more sugar cane. He knows regrowth can happen, and perhaps more important, how to make it happen.
Just hours later on our morning walk, I saw green peeking through the ash. Not much, but just enough to show the world that life was still present. I thought, “Hmm…there’s something to learn here.”
Tonight, my walk with Eli was just a few minutes later than normal, and we had perfectly cloudy skies. It made for the most beautiful setting. The gorgeous sunset pouring over the scorched sugar, if you will, as if to better show off the growing signs of life. Even after being cut down and burned, Hope remains.
Hope always remains.
Hope always remains because our God is so very, absolutely, wholly good.
No matter the circumstances. No matter if you feel like the sugar that was cut down in its prime, the soil scorched by blazing fire, or the resilient new plants breaking forth out of devastation – God is good. Today, tomorrow, in this season and the next.
My father and brother-in-law made it safely home after two weeks with us. Although I greatly cherish the time and money our family sacrifices to come visit, it almost hurts worse when they return home. It always leaves me praying, talking to God constantly, asking Him to remind me why we’re here.
In the loneliness, He’s good. In the happiness, He’s good. In the waiting, He’s good. In the unknown, He’s good. When the cancer markers are clear, He’s good. When tumors grow faster than this sugar, He’s good. In the labor for the Kingdom, He’s good. When 100s are coming to know Christ, He’s good. When one disciple is “all you have to show” for a year of work, He’s good.
Excuse the double negative, but he will never not be Good.