I remember being taken back by Johnny Cash’s description of his childhood in his autobiography, Cash. He spoke about the hardships of moving to government subsidized land in Arkansas with his family and having to work the land with his father. The land was littered with stone and needed to be cleared in order to field a potential harvest. Even then their efforts would be at the mercy of nature’s elements.
Early on in his story, I was mesmerized by the amount of faith, hope, and perseverance needed to obtain their dream, to provide and survive. Cash spoke of the grueling labor he and his father had to endure removing the fields of stone and working the earth to suitable soil. Once cleared, they began tilling and caring for what they hoped would be a profitable cotton harvest, which was never guaranteed. At stake was everything but beyond it lie nothing. During harvest time their hands would bleed, scab, and bleed again from the hostile cotton harvest. That which gave life broke their bodies.
Life comes through labor, grows through pain, and blooms from the agony – this song rests in that thought. Separate from Mercy, Grace, and faith we are mere broken bodies; conjoined with these we are thriving farmers, reaping a bountiful harvest though our bodies, sustaining and truly living in the field with our Father. Put your hand to the plow and work for the harvest that lasts forever.
This Blog was written to the sweet sounds of… ahem… my own music Fields Of Evermore
Fields of Evermore
Lonely is the shadow lit by the moon
Heavy is the burden that comes too soon
The fields are hot and heavy and filled with stone
I’m going to work the land of my father ‘till the seed has been sown
I’m going to make it rain somehow
I’m gonna make it rain somehow
On the fields of evermore
My hands have learned from watching, my heart from pain
When the bundle falls we’ll burn ‘em all to refine the yield again
My cracked hands hold the rhythm
I walk the furrow with an offering
I cant wash my hands too often boys on account of the burn and sting
I’m going to make it rain somehow
I’m gonna make it rain somehow
On the fields of evermore
Mercy come and hold me now and get behind the plow
Mercy come and hold me now get behind the plow
Mercy, mercy hold on get behind
the fields of evermore