The Lilies of the Field

On the farm, everything has its place and purpose. All the different types of habitats are utilized: The field and garden have a rotation of plants; the stream, with its own flora and fauna, is used to water the fields; the woods are a cool place for the cows and provide logs for the winter stove. Even inside the farmhouse, the rhythm of mending, cleaning, and cooking is methodical. In our mind’s eye, though, we imbue this scene with bucolic beauty. We each have our own “going-to-grandma’s-house” memory, don’t we?

In Matthew 6:28b-29, Jesus says, “Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.” Even the “disorderliness” of God is beautiful. The farmer cannot stop wildflowers from sweeping across his fields in a beautiful blanket of color. There is no reason that watching pearly clouds blooming against a fathomless azure background should be relaxing. But it is.

Beauty, therefore, is an argument for the existence of the Divine. As co-laborers with God, mankind is able to harness the power of the streams and woods and plains. We mold, change, or tame them. But we can never really control them. Not all of them, all the time. The purpose of the farm is to provide food and shelter. The farmhouse is a safe backdrop for the unrehearsed dramas of life to play out. When life itself gets messy, the beauty all around us whispers, “God is in control. His love will carry you.” Only He can weave the orderly and the spontaneous, the sweet and the wild, into something beautiful. Even if you feel as helpless as a field lily.