Lent 25 ~ Harvest of Toil

gifts

          My children’s first test results are in. Some are okay, some not. Of course, I’m bothered by the not’s. I’m trying to not let it get to me, but I’ve already lost interest in the day. It’s not worry; it’s weariness. Deep, born of years of labour and sacrifices; there’s nothing we’ve not given the children. All we have asked them is to always give their best for Jesus.

         A string of B’s from an A-student who stubbornly spent more time in fun and tv watching cannot be deemed the best fruits offered at the altar of God. One who rushed through or slept through prayers and was casual about Mass and the Sacraments certainly did not bear the best of gifts for the Lord.

          The harvest is what it is because the toil was flawed from the start.

          For a while, I ponder my helplessness, this strange melancholic stupor that has me in a curled heap. What can I say to this child of mine? What can I say to reverse this dark tide?

          What can I do that hasn’t already been done?

          Idly sifting through the past readings, Isaiah stills my wanderings.

They shall live in the houses they build,
and eat the fruit of the vineyards they plant. ~  Isaiah 65:21

          If the toil is flawed, so will the harvest be. We have said the same, in a hundred different ways. How will it make a difference now?

          A tiny bell tinkles in the still wind. Take Isaiah’s words. Take them as they are.

          I take Isaiah to this child. I pray he be received.

They shall live in the houses they build,
and eat the fruit of the vineyards they plant.

          Words of hope. Words of warning.

 

 

 

 

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