The prairie grasses give way to the wind blowing from the north. Swaying it rocks, to and fro, bending in the direction of less pressure. Being bent by that which is stronger. The roots run thru the soil keeping it planted and secure, yet moving in a dance among the prairie to a tune that we can’t hear. The wind singing a song with all of creation in harmony, inrapturing the grass into a ballet. In susession they move following the lead of something greater than theirselves.
What song are they hearing? What does the wind do to make them dance in such a way? Is there a rhythm? A beat? What score is being written? And aren’t we told to consider them? Aren’t we told that we are like the grass? “All people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field.” (1 Peter 1:24)
John 3:8 “The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” So the wind of the spirit is bending us into a rhythm. A Dance of the spirit that can not be explained. Something we don’t know where it comes from, or to where it goes, but we are lead, bending, swaying, moving, dancing to the breath of Heaven.
Our roots, sunken into the soil of this earth, but drawing our life from the Son, being refreshed with the watering of His words.
“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, 11. so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent .” (Isaiah 55:10 & 11)
And doesn’t the wind always blow? Sometimes so gently it can not be felt and at other times gusting as if it is trying stop everything else? Yet, it is when the rain comes with the wind that the two produce the roots to hold it in place? Isn’t it the rain coming down, washing the leaves, peddles, and blades making the color of the plant shine in the sun? And so can we not consider the grass of the prairies, the flowers in the fields, and learn to feel the breath of the Spirit, the warmth of the Son, and the Rain of Heaven making us to grow, to bud, bloom with the fruit of life? Can we not listen to the music of all creation getting lost in the rhythm of a spiritual ballet being conducted all around us?
And now, even now, A distant thundering echoes in the valley of my soul, as it rolls across the prairies of my mind, reverberating thru every fiber of my being..
The wind of the spirit is blowing across my soul and it’s leading in a direction less traveled. It is bending me to it’s will. Leading me at times in a soft tune, but at times with such force that I feel like I will break. The rain is coming. A chill is in the air. My soul needs a shower. The soil of my heart has gotten hard. It needs the mosture of heaven to flood it, breaking up the dry and bitter clay.
How can one explain it? How can our life be like the grass of the field? What is it that each one of us needs to learn? What stage of life are you in? Do you feel the Seed fallen to the ground and died? Do you feel the wind inviting you to the dance? Or is it a driving force bending you to it’s will? How’s your soil? Your heart? Your soul? “The Spirit gives life.. The words I have spoken to you are full of the Spirit and of Life.” (John 6:63)
Pictures by Blake Hannah